#drew this while on vacation when there was no internet :)

[doodlingdoods]

A compilation of little creatures I drew while on vacation !!

Barok's differing attitudes between blonde scientists:

[thehauntedetheral]

YANDERE PAINTER

Requests are open !

• You were not at all a art person. You appreciated all the artist and their passion for their art but you were just not interested.

• But your bestfriend she is a huge art person especially passionate about painting and painters.

• If anyone asked your bestfriend about painters and painting she would start her lecture on painters from today's time till the 1700s knowing every painter, everything. Meanwhile on the other hand you don't know any other painter than Picasso. That too you just knew his name nothing else.

• Your bestfriend attends every painting exhibition and forcefully drags you with her to every exhibition hence here you are staring at a painting you have no idea about while your bestfriend rambled like a maniac.

"The colours, the brush strokes, the technique, everything is just flawless y/n" your bestfriend said while you nodded absent mindly.

"You know the painter's whose exhibition this is. Is a lot famous despite being quite young and he is good looking too. His paintings are just out worldly and their price at auctions go to crazy numbers. And I heard he is here at the exhibition I hope we could get to meet him." Your bestfriend continued rambling while you felt some people looking at you and whispered something between themselves and when you made eye contact with them they just gave you a polite smile. Weird you thought.

• You both moved towards next various painting when at one painting you and your bestfriend jaws just fell down. You were not an art person and you didn't understand a single thing about paintings. But this one really made your jaw fell down because the painting infront of you is of a face of a woman and that face is none other than yours. The same eyes, lips, hairs. It was like looking at a mirror.

• Is this some kind of prank getting filmed for internet? What in the actual fuck is going on? Now you know why many people were looking at you and talking because they saw this painting. They thought you were the women in the painting.

• You looked at the painting with more focused mind and yes still definitely your face looking more beautiful than that in reality filled with warm colours.

"What is going on?" You asked your bestfriend.

"I have no idea. How did your face ended up as Yan's painting???" Your bestfriend asked with the same curiosity.

• Before you know your bestfriend has marched to get the exhibition incharge and what not people to get your answers.

• You just stood there thinking of many possibilities. Could it be that he painted a imaginary face but it ended up being real? Or some other person has the same exact face as you and they modelled for this painting? Your mind was creating many theories.

• When someone came and stood beside you. A good looking tall man with an expensive blazer smiled at you and introduced himself.

"Hello. I am yan the painter of this painting you are looking at." He said while looking at you like a child looks at moon.

"How did I ended up on your painting?" You asked not sure what was going on.

"Oh I just drew a imaginary face. I didn't knew it existed and that too thousands times more beautiful than my painting." Yan said making you blush. And thinking yes my theory is correct.

• But what you didn't knew was that yan lied. This painting was not his imagination but is inspired by you. He just lied to you to avoid any suspicions.

• The story of how you ended in his painting is that when you were on a vacation a few months ago yan was there too for his exhibition. He saw your face only for a few minutes while you were passing. He just ..... He just got hypnotized.

• Your facial features harmony, your eyes, your hairs they were just perfect. Just flawless . As if you were god's best creation.

• He was sad that he only saw you for a few minutes. But he was mesmerized.

• Days passed by but your face kept popping up in his mind every other minute. Too often. Too much.

• That he stopped working on his upcoming projects and instead started painting your face. He tried his best to paint your face even though he saw you only for few minutes.

• He drew, sketched, painted hundreds, thousands of times your face but he still felt that they are injustice to your ethereal beauty.

• He didn't knew your name, age, address anything but he was obsessed. It's just that some crazy passion rushes through his body whenever he looked at your face drawn on canvas.

• His whole studio, house is filled with your paintings in different colours, size, expressions.

• He kept your paintings as a treasure to himself thinking only he is worthy to look upon. That even though much insisting from his secretary he didn't gave any of your paintings to show on exhibition. He don't want strangers to look at his beautiful inspiration.

• But his secretary didn't listen to yan and secretly put it in today's exhibition hoping that somehow with this painting put out open will he be able to find you and stop his this crazy madness about you.

• Upon seeing your painting on the exhibition yan was furious and was About to cancel the exhibition when your bestfriend came rushing to his secretary asking how her friend y/n ended in Yan's painting? Hearing this all his anger was kept aside and he just started looking for you. His inspiration.

• And hence here you are both standing beside each other infront of the painting which caused all this while yan looking at you thinks he has been born on this earth to capture, paint your beauty on his canvas.

• "Oh to be loved by an artist" many people say this in your case you were definitely being loved, obsessed by yan an artist.

For more yandere reading :

[shadowredfeline]

Four in One Post

For a few Responses to my Filipino Friend

First Response

I know you haven't made a birthday pic for him since you have been busy with your family business, but you can always make him one as like a random drawing if anytime you feel like drawing Yinna the Panda, or have Shadow, Lisa, Lighting and Yinna hanging out together, or you can draw Lighting a bathing suit for her and she can go to the Beach with Yinna, Riya, May and Vanilla before Summer gets ready to end.

Second Response

My mom and i use Ebay a lot and i bet that'll be the perfect site to pick up a Banapassport online, and thank you so much for giving me a suggestion where to find a Banapassport. Especially i can find some that are brand new. And i know we understand Alex could be Naive about Maxi Tune. But i know much about it since i know i have played that game a couple of times besides playing Mario Kart Aracde GP Deluxe. And for the Wendy's Meal, i bet it'll be a nice choice to have anytime you want to visit AZ as well as for trying out their theme parks.

And for my Filipino Friend's On This Day Post

Looks cute for Murukir to be in Chowder's form, and if Chowder is out of the show, then we can have Murukir as a substitute. Much like i how i remember on Cartoon Network, i used to see two characters taking over someone's place. Like Marvin the Martian is taking over Double D, and the Mayor from PPG is taking over Numbuh 2's Place. And even when they say, Numbuh 2 is Sick or Double D is on Vacation, but i like the idea of having Cartoon Network characters trying to take someone's place. They should've done it in Modern Cartoon Network if it weren't from that stupid CEO of WBD. He ruins everything and without Cartoon Network, i'll have to Warner Bros. in Persona 6 or Warner Bros. in Persona 5 the Phantom X. But however, i would love to see Nickelodeon do something like that saying like with Spongebob, let's say Lincoln Loud took over Squidward's place and Stimpy took over Patrick's place. Like if i rewrote Choir Boys from Spongebob, let's say Stimpy kept Spongebob Company while Squidward goes to the Men's Choir, and Spongebob and Stimpy watch Squidward perform at a Choir Concert. And let's say when Squidward was Sick and took a time away from Spongebob, Lincoln Loud is wearing Squidward's Clothes and told Spongebob and Krabs that he's taking over. But i know a lot of people would think it'll be different when it comes to Wreck It Ralph where people leave their own game or show.

And for my A-Pal's On This Day Post.

You know i did a drawing like that too. Except it only just drew Shadow and Caleb since they were the only two that can do something really fun for DA. But normally i haven't done so many Anniversary stuff, but i have been doing a lot of DA Tutorials on depending on which one i would be drawing. Even Lisa does that kind of stuff too.

[s10127470]

Sonic’s Latin American Adventure (Part 1)

Most of you are probably familiar with Sonic Adventure.

While not being Sonic’s first, it was his first big successful jump into the world of 3D.

And although it has aged in terms of graphic and especially voice-acting, it’s gameplay and story is still fondly remembered by many.

But one element that I want to take about are the levels.

Sonic Adventure has some of the most iconic levels in the Sonic franchise.

But what some of you may not know were the real-world inspirations behind them.

Ever since the Genesis days, Sonic has drawn influence from our world for reference.

Carnival Night Zone from Sonic the Hedgehog 3 was inspired by the local carnivals that Sonic Team saw in San Francisco.

Casino Night Zone from Sonic the Hedgehog 2 was inspired by Las Vegas, which Sonic Team took a trip to during its production.

And undoubtedly the most recognizable (and widely hated) level in the entire franchise Green Hill Zone from the game that start it all, was inspired by the rolling green hills and blue skies of California.

But when it was time to develop Sonic Adventure, Sonic Team wanted to go bigger than ever before and create more realistic worlds than before, thanks to the greater capabilities of the Sega Dreamcast.

One of the kind of new environments they wanted to do for Sonic Adventure were jungles with ancient ruins.

When creating levels for the games during the Genesis days, while Sonic Team did draw some influence from the real world, they mostly drew inspiration from movies and tv shows.

None of the team had ever seen any genuine ruins or jungles before, and tools like the Internet were way too primitive at the time for help.

So in order to make the environments of the game feel authentic as possible, Sonic Team took a nearly 3-month long trip through Central and South America.

They traveled to Mexico (specifically around the Yucatán Peninsula), Guatemala, and Peru.

And they not only took inspiration from the environments of those locations, but also the culture, history, and possibly even religion.

So today, I want to go into depth on the real-world inspirations for some of the levels and elements of Sonic Adventure.

So grab your adventure gear and some snacks, cause we’re going on a Latin American adventure!

Coming up first we have the very first level of the game, Emerald Coast.

When taking in the tropical beach environment, the seagrass thatched umbrellas scattered all over the place, forested cove and the resort at the beginning of the level, it’s safe to say that Emerald Coast was inspired by popular vacation spots such as Cancún and Tulum.

Next we come to the Mystic Ruins and Lost World.

These two locations are definitely the strongest examples of the Latin American influence.

They’re both clearly inspired by the ancient ruins of Mayan cities such as Chichen Itza, Tikal, Uaxactun, and San Gervasio, along with the jungles surrounding them.

Within the Lost World level, there’s a bit of a snake theme going on. From the torches, to the entrances, and there even being a giant stone snake moving around in the water section.

In Mayan culture, the snake was one of the most important animals, alongside the jaguar and the quetzal.

Snakes were seen as the vehicles by which celestial bodies, such as the sun and stars, crossed the heavens on. The shedding of their skin made them a symbol of rebirth and renewal.

And although there were many sculptures of snakes, most of them found on pyramids, they were often used to represent an important deity in Mayan mythology.

But I’m gonna touch on that a bit later.

The history of the Mystic Ruins is also pretty accurate to the history of most of the Mayan cities.

As most of you probably know, the Mystic Ruins was originally the home of the Knuckles Clan.

But after it was abandoned for thousands of years, it eventually became overgrown with jungle.

That was basically the same thing that happened to the real-life Mayan cities.

After they were abandoned, the surrounding wilderness essentially claimed them.

For example, this illustration shows what Tikal might’ve looked like during the time of the Mayans.

And this photograph shows what it was like back in 1881.

Next we move on the second level of the game, Windy Valley.

When taking in the mountainous landscape and the stone structures (plus their appearance), it’s pretty clear that this level is a loose adaptation of famous Inca city Machu Picchu.

As for the next two levels, finding their inspiration was admittedly a bit tricky when considering the locations Sonic Team traveled to.

But after a lot of research, I think I found them.

Icecap from Sonic 3 returns as the fourth level in the game.

Although it’s inspiration is a tad tricky, I believe that it was inspired from the various snowy-peaked mountains of the Andes.

And for the final level, we come to Red Mountain.

This was probably the hardest level for me for find any possible inspirations for.

Admittedly, for the longest time I thought it was inspired by the tepuis of Venezuela.

And at first glance, you can definitely see the comparison.

Unfortunately, the only place that Sonic Team traveled to was Peru.

But then I remembered that Red Mountain had a bit of canyon look as well.

And after doing some research, I've come to two possible inspirations for the level.

These inspirations are Colca Canyon and Rio Marañón, two canyons located which not only have similar appearances to some of the geological features of Red Mountain, but also just so happen to be located in Peru.

Next we have is Sand Hill, and funnily enough, the history of the level actually involves its inspiration.

During the trip, one of Sonic Team's stop was the city of Ica. During their visit, they discovered the sport of sandboarding. It amazed them so much that they decided to include it as a mini-game for Tails.

As you could already tell, the location was inspired by Ica itself.

Well that's all I can share for now!

I've already reached the 30 image limit, so I can't show any more photos for this post.

So this is gonna be a two-parter. Along with that, it's gonna be much shorter than this one since I'll be covering that the last bit of info I wanted to share.

So stay-in tune for the second and final part of Sonic's Latin American Adventure!

[pbandjesse]

I am sitting on our airplane right now! James doesn't seem in as much distress as then did last time, or during take off. So I can be a little more relaxed because they are. I hate seeing them in so much abject terror.

Thankfully they seem a little better. And besides so stupid stress that was outside of our control today went really well. All things considered. And we should be home before midnight.

After I finished my post last night we would watch the sun set and go and get an ice cream cone. Which was so much better then the first night when it was just ice. Which made us both laugh because we had avoided it all week thinking it was just bad. We would wander for a while. While watching Canada come in people were standing on the pier and waving and singing and saying hello and it was such a sweet little human moment. Those moments where we are just reaching out to each other. It was so cute. And while we watched the sun set with the mountains in the distance a seal popped out of the water! I even got it making a little twist before it swam away and it was the best. Made me feel so happy.

We would go and write out review and thanks to our room attendant, I also drew him a little picture of the towel swans. We sat in the card room for the last time.

We would go back to the room eventually though. To enjoy bridge cam for the last time. And go through our bags to make sure we had a plan for the last few things. It was going to be tight for sure but we would make it work. I was really proud of us.

I took a melatonin to try and easy my racing thoughts. And it mostly helped. I would fall asleep easier. But I woke up at midnight. I'm glad I did because I had a text. Confirming our pickup at the pier point.

But the issue was it was for 6am. This was wrong. We had called on Friday and told them the correct time. They said that was fine. But this was wrong. So I texted the number back, unsure if it was a real person but it was. And they were very much not helpful. They just were like. No, you didn't contact us, you made this appointment. And I said no sorry we didn't, Amtrak did, and we contacted you on Friday. And this person had the audacity to ask me what they wanted them to do about it now it was midnight. Dude you were the one who contacted me at midnight!! What do you mean??? They asked when our flight was. I said 11. And they said they probably wouldn't have a driver for me at 8, when we were allowed off the ship. And I said okay let me know in the morning. And then I tried to sleep.

My anxiety was super high. I only had 20 minutes left of wifi. I needed to have a plan. Thankfully Seattle is a city and a cab would be $40 and not the worst thing in the world. I sent James a text so they would know what was up. It wouldn't make sense to wake them up and stress them too.

So I stayed up until around 2. Watching videos. I watched a really interesting one about Nazi dog whistles and the bored ape vacation club nft and how there are wild connections between the two. But because it's multi layered Internet culture most people wouldn't ever know how many Nazi connections are there. Which is both super shocking and not surprising at all. Dog whistles are so insidious because there is always the plausible deniability. But it's important to know them.

James would wake up to use the bathroom and I filled them in about the pick up. They agreed we would handle it. And that gave me the reassurance to fall back asleep.

It wasn't amazing sleep. And waking up at 6 I didn't feel great. I tried my best to wake myself up with water and a little stretching. And then it was just. The last things to pack, the double checking. And then breakfast.

I honestly felt to sick to eat. The idea of eating the same breakfast I really enjoyed all week make me nauseous. I was not having a good time. I sat at our table with my head in my hands I felt so ill. It just makes me think about being a kid, how often my stomach hurt, especially before events and activities. Even if I really wanted to do them, the transition to them l, the unknown variables of other people, it's wild that I have only realized that that was probably just anxiety, still is anxiety, like two months ago. I just thought I was nervous but it turns out most people don't get such intense stomach pains and nausea. James has been so sweet about it but I know it's probably a little annoying. I love them for supporting me when I'm suffering.

We went back to our room and got our bags and said goodbye to our room. We went to the 6th deck but after sitting there for a few minutes I went to check and the staff told me we would be leaving from deck 7. So I went and got James and we went up there. Except when we got there they told us the end of the line was on the other side of the deck. Alright. So we struggled and got through to that side. Where they told us the line was on the other side? And while all the staff can speak English there was for sure some confusion and something getting lost in translation. The second staff member asked me who told us to come down there, like he wanted a name, but I didn't know their name and also I'm not a snitch. But he came back with us and we found that the line was actually coming from both directions, so we got in the spot where they intersected.

Where everyone was complaining. Like guys it's fine. Well get off eventually. And like I feel for people that made flights to early but why would you make an 8am flight? Bad idea. We were cutting it close with our noon flight. But it would be fine.

I started feeling better while talking to people. Dazzling them with our small bags and packing abilities. Chatting about what we liked about the flight. Met some navy vets and got to talk about Torsk and how we met on the USS Constellation. People congratulating us on our honeymoon. It was a nice way to end the cruise.

We went through the security check. James seemed anxious still but we made it out together. And once we were outside a taxi driver was like. Follow me! And he was booking it but James kept up. I have little legs and could only keep up so well. James came back and I said I'm only getting in this cab if it's a yellow cab. And thankfully it was. No scam there. He was a nice guy but his driving left something to be desired. At least we could have the windows open.

The drop off lane was wild so we all decided he should just drop us off at the pick up side of the airport and we'll just figure it out. Was that technically a ticketable offense? Probably. But we got out and said goodbye and we were at the airport.

James likes to go to the desk and get printed tickets. Which is fine with me. So we did that and then to TSA. Where I made sure we had everything out and ready. And I just enjoyed people watching.

My favorite was a little girl and her mom. It was clearly when first time on a plane and she exclaimed that it was "just like a ferry but with lots more people!" And that was just so cute. They take a lot of ferries in Seattle so her connection to that made sense but it was so sweet. Also she had little purple and white cowboy boots on and it was just so cute.

We got pulled at TSA because my suitcase had James's book in it and it looks strange on the x-ray. But the man was very nice and figured it out first and was kind. Sometimes they can be so mean for no reason. So this was very pleasant.

But we still had a few hours to waste. We stopped to reset ourselves. I accidentally ripped my necklace off and had to take a minute to fix the chain. Which is hard when you have no tools but I used my teeth and will fix it better at home.

We decided to explore. We both wanted cinnamon things. I wanted a pretzel and James a cinnabun but no luck. While this was a really nice airport it had almost no chains! Except Starbucks which it had 8 of. Ah well. Instead we road the tram/train between gates. Got a grilled cheese made with the fancy cheese we saw being made at pikes place. And it was very good. James was grimacing from pain in their shoulder where they have their plate from the accident. While the backpack suitcase was a great find it is hard for James to keep taking it on and off. And it was just heavy. So we went and found a seat. And ate my sandwich and talked a little.

Eventually the flight before ours left and we were able to get seats at the gate. Charged our phones. And I drew and worked on my embroidery for a while.

The agents at the gate asked for people to check bags again. This was a larger plane but it is also full. So we checked our bags. And I ended up having a conversation with the woman about James's injury and it turns out her daughter also was in a bike accident but the paramedics apparently didn't think anyone survived at first so they weren't moving to fats but thank God someone noticed because her daughter was alive and barely hurt, just stuck with her bike in the windshield! Wild. We both felt very lucky that we have our loved ones still.

Me and James would secretly text while standing next to each other about the shitty husband we overheard. It was like this shitty husband's on TikTok! He went and got a sandwich for himself and called her a selfish brat when she asked if she got anything. Then sent her off to find him hummus apparently and while he was gone he spilled his coffee all over the floor and her bag and didn't even try to clean it up. Then when she came back without hummus he basically completely dismissed her and she said she wanted to get food as well and he acted like she was being so stupid. She looked so defeated it broke my heart. It made James say comparatively they are a great husband and I was like hey! Stop being mean to my husband, you are a great husband.

Soon we would get on the plane. And we got seats over the wing again. We thought we would leave on time and actually get to Washington a little early but no luck. Maintenance had to come out and check something and we left a little late. Ah well.

The plane just landed in Washington! It was a pretty easy flight all things considered. I did not sleep. I did get my last digital drawing done and did some embroidery. I made it another couple chapters into my book. And hoenslty besides having the pee basically the entire time but being to nervous to use the airplane bathroom, it was a pretty comfortable flight. James didn't seem so stressed out. I was pretty comfortable overall.

Now we are waiting to get off the plane. They haven't opened the doors yet but hopefully soon.

We did get off the plane pretty fast. This is for sure the ugliest airport I've ever been too. It's just kind of dirty. It has dropped ceilings and they all had moisture stains. Gross. Also they had a shuttle system to get to the main hub. Which was packed and poorly designed so everyone was having a bad time. Then we had to get on a second shuttle bus to go to the rental car and there is basically no signage explaining where to go or what to do. But James thankfully checked with a driver for a different company and soon the shuttle was here. Which was packed and pretty stuffy. But at least we were going the right way.

We are waiting in line for the rental car now. So I'm going to post this. We have about an hour and a half until we see home. I am so excited to see Sweetp and be in our space.

Tomorrow me and James will return the car and get groceries and do laundry and I have my rhumatologist appointment. I miss our trip but it also gave me a lot of perspective. I hope I can carry this joy for a while.

Good ight everyone. I hope you sleep well.

[bergeronprocess]

10/15/24

Thinking about resilience via something Drew Magary wrote on Defector just now.

I gave myself the week off of my daily writing while my family was in town for a week. My mother in law and brother in law flew down from Massachusetts and that was unusual because usually it is only one of the two of them who visits at one time. It was a big week with lots of running around and going places, so I didn’t feel able to sit down and do some writing each day. 

It was also a bit of a tough time. They both criticized the cleanliness of our home and how our lack of interest in gardening manifested in a “bald spot” in our front yard (mother-in-law has a green thumb), brother-in-law staunchly refused to pay for anything and kept talking about how much money he makes (much more than me and more than my husband; sure, he works a grueling and draining job, but phew did he really need to give the specifics? No) - and we are also still working through the effects of the car accident my husband was involved in just before the vacation. He needs more medical care now than we thought before and he is just not going to be able to work right now. 

But I just read something by Defector’s Drew Magary that kind of stuck with me and that I’m going to keep remembering as we get through this time. He was saying this in the context of trying to tune out the relentless hyperbole and hostility on the Internet, but I think it can apply elsewhere too. He’s also just recently lost his father after an illness, so now he joins me (and my husband, too) in the Dead Dads Club, an unenviable club to join, so those feelings were probably shining through when he wrote this too.

“As for seeing nothing but hostility in the world, that’s almost a separate issue,” he writes. “Like everyone else, I’ve had my fighting reflexes triggered by outside voices online. But I have gotten better at accepting that all of that is, at its core, noise. This is harder to do if your personal life is going horribly, but even then the sun still shines, birds still chirp, and the banana pudding shake is still back on the Chick-Fil-A menu for a limited time only. Carve out time every day to treat yourself to good things, and then all of that noise will feel less relevant to your psyche.”

I would perhaps use a different seasonal menu item as the example here. Like maybe the Zensation Zalad at Zaxbys, a very tasty salad with pieces of fried chicken, a whole egg roll and other Asian flavors throughout. My mom and I both enjoy the Zensation Zalad (the s->z thing is their signature gimmick, and it is a little silly, but I am one for a little silliness) and I’ve just seen ads for it again recently.

The sun still shines. The birds still chirp. Zensation Zalad season is here. It’s all going to be alright.

[adarafaelbarba]

Pairing: Bryan Kneef x reader (The Good Fight)

Square: Good For You - Olivia Rodrigo

Bingo: kattsbdaybingo2022 by @storiesofsvu

Day four

WC: 682

A new low, truly... like you needed any reason to stoop lower. And here you were, stalking your ex on social media.

You didn’t know what drew you to doing it during work hours, but you found yourself with spare time while you boss...Class A asshole, but hottest eye candy in Chicago, Bryan Kneef, was out for lunch with some other senior partners at the firm.

God you felt pathetic as you scrolled down your ex’s instagram, seeing pictures of his vacation to the Maldives, his hot new ride and his even hotter new girl. ��Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily», you huffed, checking the time stamp on the post, anger building up as you saw it was stamped two weeks after you broke it off, «Found a new girl, and it only took a couple weeks.» Groaning, you rolled your eyes, but kept scrolling. «Good to know that therapist I found for you really helped.»

Clicking in on another picture you were about to say something else when your boss spoke up, «That better be the paperwork I gave you before I left that your working on.» You looked up, shocked at having been busted.

«So—sorry, sir, I—uhh—I have the paperwork right here, finished it, and was having my break now.» You handed the stack over to him.

«Try and keep your social needs out of the work place», he said, rolling his eyes before going to his office.

You let out at sigh of relief, thankful that he hadn’t done anything worse. His last assistant, before you, had been fired for coming to work, crying after her cat had died. Which was cruel of him, but no one was really surprised, he had one hell of a temper.

Clicking out of the internet browser you decided to get back to work when Bryan called you in to his office.

You instantly stood up, quickly fixing yourself before entering his office. «Yes, sir?»

He looked at you, studying you for a moment. «What’s the guy’s name?» For a moment you didn’t quite get what he asked, and when you made no move to answer, he asked again «The guy you were insulting through the screen, what’s his name?»

«I—uhhhh—Jonathan—Quinn—what—why are you—?» He started typing on his laptop, nodding every now and then.

«He’s going to the Mayor’s party this weekend—»

«Yeah, his dad is good friends with the Mayor.»

Bryan glared at you, and you apologized for interrupting.

«Good thing I’m going there too. You’ll have to wear a cocktail dress. I’ll have my driver pick you up on the way.»

You thought for sure you were hallucinating—or dreaming. Cause your boss did not just tell you he was taking you to the party hosted by the Mayor of Chicago. «I’m sorry?»

He rolled his eyes, «Don’t you want to make your ex jealous?» His voice sounded so unamused.

It would be nice to see Jonathan’s jaw drop, and to really rub it in his face that she could do better than him, cause look-wise, Bryan was 1000 times hotter than your ex.

«Why are you helping me sir?» You asked, already regretting it. He might take back what he said.

«Cause I’ve been told I need to bring someone, so it’s a win win really.» Ahhh so there was an underlying motive for his suggestion.

You would have to pretend you were dating your boss, not just to fool your ex, but to fool everyone. «Is it really professional to bring your assistant as a date?»

«Would you like me to fire you first then?»

You shook your head, «No, sir, point taken. I’ll be ready for when you pick me up. Thank you», you rambled, scramming to get out before he changed his mind, and his mood.

Fuck, what have you gotten yourself into, you thought to yourself, sitting back down in your chair, head in your hands, to hide your confusion, but also to hide the small smile playing on your lips.

[somerpmemes]

The Owl House Starters

Change as needed

“No! My only weakness! Dying!”

“That doesn’t count, right?”

“Do you have any friends? Real ones?”

“Tiny trash thief!”

“Oops, that happens sometimes.”

“I’m a squirmy little fella.”

“I like food, I like love, just let me write about it!”

“Oh, he gets so cute when he’s thirsty for power.”

“I’ve never actually broken any of your stupid laws… in front of you.”

“I hate everything you’re saying right now.”

“We’d be the strongest power couple ever.”

“Self-doubt is a prison you can never escape from.”

“Anyways, let’s bounce before any more monsters fall in love with me.”

“I am not your cutie pie!”

“No one wants an un-oiled snake.”

“Remember, never befriend a man in sandals and always measure twice, cut once.”

“Be back by nightfall or risk mortal peril!”

“I know I’ve had enough delight for one day.”

“Sorry to break it to you, ___, but no one here is that well-dressed.”

“This has been a rough day.”

“Big houses always belong to big whack jobs.”

“Today just got good.”

“Wizards are just old people with glitter in their pockets.”

“Anyways, your food is gone and we are too.”

“Never trust a man in casual drapery.”

“All that mean-spirited laughter made me sleepy.”

“I don’t like this. I really don’t like this.”

“All your food was so tiny and cute.”

“If you can think of a better plan I’d love to hear it.”

“Betrayed by my own cool accessories.”

“I didn’t have to be part of this!”

“I… don’t like this.”

“I think I’ll head home and look at pictures of animals that are still… alive.”

“Wow, you’re so unnoticeable I almost rolled into you.”

“It’s okay, the thorns only went through a few layers of skin.”

“Alright, into the darkness you go.”

“Oh my god, I haven’t eaten real food in so long please give me some.”

“You can’t just cut open a human, can you?”

“Keeping junk in my pocket saved my life!”

“Ahh, baby’s first wanted poster.”

“Even demons have inner demons.”

“This is my paying attention face.”

“Look, now we’re boo boo buddies.”

“It’s like a rainbow, but looking at it turns you inside out.”

“I respect your cunning but I also hate you for it.”

“Oh, gross. Can I keep that?”

“This is terrifying, so why do you look so happy?”

“Oh no, a twist!”

“I’m kind of over that nickname, but okay.”

“Oh, what lovely thing do we have here? It’s just so dang shiny, oh my.”

“And look, I drew flip book.”

“I will literally do anything to stop this.”

“If I’m seen, I could go to jail… again.”

“Alright, let’s see this mess.”

“That’s probably fine.”

“Time to prepare for bloodshed.”

“Welcome down to my level!”

“I know I should be repulsed but that look is fierce.”

“I’m gonna steal everything that’s not nailed down!”

“I was up all night poison tasting and, for some reason, I don’t feel great.”

“I need an extra pair of eyes looking out for pickpockets. And an extra pair of hands in case I want to pickpocket.”

“I got leaves in my pants. And I like it.”

“I was a strange child.”

“You think this can stop me? I can still bite your ankles.”

“If you’re gonna eat me, just do it now!”

“___, you’re getting all swoony again.”

“Rivals are meant to be annihilated, not befriended.”

“Witches eating babies is so 1693.”

“Ugh, you.”

“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”

“Whoa, I almost passed out.”

“It’s been hours, how can it keep screaming!?”

“Say that again and I steal your tongue.”

“Keep going, this is fun to watch.”

“Isn’t that taking it a bit too far?”

“Just go away before things somehow get worse!”

“This never happened.”

“And who doesn’t like their name in lights?”

“That’s the incorrect reaction!”

“I smell an easy mark.”

“Well, I hate her.”

“It’s like demonic possession with the ones you love.”

“This is just like my favorite early 2000’s movie!”

“I’m so old… and pointy.”

“I’ve got some very confusing emotions right now.”

“My life’s not a joke! But yours is!”

“Novelty costumes are where I draw the line.”

“I am not above disrespecting my elders.”

“This vacation just took an alarming, back-alley turn.”

“Geez, I thought I’d like being babied. But I feel small and helpless, like some sort of baby.”

“Hey, take this, society!”

“I didn’t like her telling me what to do before, but now I love it!”

“Let’s go let out some teen angst!”

“This is how the cool kids ride. Super backwards, on purpose.”

“Your life is pretty terrible. But, hey, it’ll probably be over soon.”

“This is some of my best work, really captures the shame.”

“That’s sweet, kid. Now let’s never speak of this again.”

“Show, don’t tell, man.”

“Oh, look what you did. I’m gonna go rub it in.”

“That seems like a potential problem to me.”

“You being the razzle, I’ll bring the dazzle.”

“Do you always have confetti on you or—?”

“You’re just gonna be unhelpful, huh?”

“Okay, time to run for no particular reason!”

“Oof, I’ve had this nightmare before.”

“Like I’d actually apologize.”

“I want power, and I want drama.”

“Are you ready to give up?”

“I was afraid, I acted stupid.”

“I just wish you told me the truth.”

“You know, it didn’t taste as bad as I thought I would.”

“Impressive, still alive.”

“This is a throne worthy of a tyrant!”

“No, no, keep those sticky hands away.”

“No one wants to see that.”

“Since when are you into sports?”

“Gross, sympathy.”

“Don’t spend all night plotting revenge.”

“Oh, this is an interesting development.”

“I’ll take that weird grumble as a yes.”

“I’m feeling confident about this plan.”

“Trust must be earned.”

“If you run, you’ll just make it harder for yourself!”

“Your pride has destroyed you.”

“So tiny, so angry.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be clean again.”

“If you ever want to search for the truth, I’ll help you.”

“Aww, that’s a horrible lie.”

“Partake of my free snack samples!”

“Why isn’t anyone paying attention to me?”

“A, eww. B, I’m bored. C, I feel like pickpocketing some dork while they browse.”

“I know my good angle.”

“Ugh, what are the basement dwellers doing out in natural sunlight?’

“Hey, there’s more to life than shipping.”

“___, I know you’re trying to help, but I think you’re crossing a line.”

“Ooh, I love punching.”

“You’re ominous, and I like it.”

“And of course you would be here just to be a nuisance.”

“I wanted to compare sunglasses.”

“Fame can really box you in, you know?”

“Besides, if anyone’s putting you down it’s gonna be me.”

“If it’s disappointing in any way I’ll spend the rest of my life trashing it.”

“He scammed us. Can you believe he scammed us?”

“Good entrance. But that outfit? Hah!”

“I’ve got a new crush and her name is education!”

“Ahh, fresh garbage.”

“I have never seen such an extravagant earring.”

“Wow, a surprisingly peaceful domestic moment. When will it be ruined?”

“Weaponizing my pride, well played.”

“Sorry, whoever’s over there!”

“Well, go on. Eat the snow.”

“Huh, it’s no fun if they don’t tremble.”

“Oh, okay, alright. Yup, an idea’s happening.”

“Shh! I don’t need your validation!”

“Get back here before that thing bites you!”

“No, we’re gonna die.”

“Cool. I didn’t actually think you could do it.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Alright, your adorable banter is literally making me sick.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve seen worse.”

“Aww. I won’t be doing that, but thanks.”

“Quitting: it’s like trying, but easier.”

“You humans are filled with liquids, right?”

“I guess I have always liked pouring things into other things.”

“Time to scrounge through the trash.”

“I ain’t no desk jockey.”

“You don’t know diddly dang about squiddly squat!”

“I love secret rooms!”

“You have an aura of lies.”

“Also, you can eat trash.”

“Do the right thing, you dingus!”

“It just goes on like this for an hour.”

“Carnivals bring crowds and crowds bring suckers.”

“We’ve got scams to run.”

“I know poison when I see it.”

“You can’t scam a scammer.”

“You should really put a lock on your closet.”

“I love crimes!”

“Now this is my kind of weird.”

“That’s way safer than becoming blood brothers.”

“Beat up the man and steal his things for me.”

“This mama is ready for trauma.”

“All right. Approval!”

“Curse these stubby legs!”

“Sketchy carnival rides are not to blame this time.”

“___, you’re lucky I can’t be mad at your adorable antics.”

“Just when I thought I couldn’t respect the law any less…”

“Aww, what a supportive sign.”

“Yep, I just counted to one million.”

“Looks like we ruined his life for a second time.”

“I’ve always wanted to own a jagged piece of cheap metal.”

“Yes! Bread puns, bread puns forever!”

“Now I know what friendship tastes like.”

“I think today is a talons day.”

“It’s fun because it’s stupid.”

“I’ll admit, I was adorable.”

“Be careful with my brain.”

“Wouldn’t you rather talk about it?”

“That’s my motto after all, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’”

“No schemes, no plots, no ruses. None.”

“I can’t believe I made him cry.”

“Are you solving a crime or about to commit one?”

“Sadly this is one problem crime can’t solve.”

“I’m supposed to choose someone interesting, accomplished, and noteworthy. People aren’t meant to be all those things!”

“Yup, her brain’s burned up real good.”

“Be still my fantasy-loving heart.”

“I’m pretty good at getting stuck inside people’s heads.”

“Hey, I found something magical.”

“I’ma put my face in it.”

“It’s like a little doghouse for angels.”

“If you’re handing out attention, I deserve it.”

“Eww, I mean, aww.”

“I really messed things up.”

“It’s eggs, it’s full of eggs.”

“No one turns down an interview with someone this pretty.”

“Me? Avoid? What? No. But let’s skip it.”

“There’s levels to me, kid. Levels I say!”

“Oh, right, I put people in there.”

“I’m gonna hug you so hard you’ll never forget me again!”

“I regret teaching you about the internet.”

“Ah, a severed hand. Perfect response.”

“Hmm, the demon at my shoulder makes a good point.”

“Always trust a shoulder demon.”

“The more I look at him, the more uncomfortable I get.”

“Man, you’ve got some quick grabbers.”

“I can’t wait to get overdressed, take awkward photos, push all the buttons!”

“We’re gonna turn this bloodbath into a fun bath.”

“Do you think I could pull off red eyeshadow?”

“Girl, you could pull off anything.”

“We’re style geniuses!”

“Ominous footsteps, creepy woods, this is no problem.”

“Dang, I look great.”

“___, you always go overboard and I end up bailing you out.”

“Now, what’s the fun in watching a kid get eaten by a monster if it’s my kid?”

“___, I don’t think you’re ready but we’re literally out of time.”

“Why so twitchy, witchy?”

“Teenagers are brutal. They’ll boo anyone and that kind of public humiliation will stick with you for life.”

“You look nice. Strange, but nice.”

“Honestly, I’m kind of amazed with how fearless you are.”

“You’ve done things I could never do.”

“Thing is, you’re sitting in my personal chitchat zone, which means you gotta talk.”

“I am a little weirdo.”

“You gotta pander.”

“Cheating a isn’t anything to brag about.”

“Well, can’t reason with crazy!”

“I’ve been talking for too long.”

“Feeling sentimental?”

“I love water.”

“I don’t know much about sports but I do know about sports movies.”

“What happens in the montage stays in the montage.”

“Not everything can be solved with a good attitude and a dope movie soundtrack.”

“Sorry, I just really love backstories.”

“You just destroyed your social life.”

“That’s such a stupid rule!”

“You’re not gonna show this to anyone, right?”

“I haven’t forgotten what you promised me.”

“Ahh, you’re a thorn in my side but you always dig your way into my heart.”

“Jeez, you’re morbid.”

“Ahh, it’s a fate much worse than death if you think about it.”

“Please don’t make me regret taking you here.”

“Love me a properly ventilated castle.”

“I spy with my little eye something coming this way!”

“I’m going away and I don’t know if I can come back this time.”

“And  ___, thank you, for being in my life.”

“I want her back as much as you do.”

“Don’t look at me like that, this is for your own good.”

“Ah farts, I got caught.”

“You understand, don’t you?”

“Please tell me that’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“To be great, you have to make sacrifices.”

“Ahh, ___, you chose the wrong side.”

“I like your spirit, but try that again and things won’t end well for you.”

“Go on, then. Go be a hero.”

“I may have lost but so have you.”

“I can teach you what I know, and what we don’t know we can learn together.”

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Cabin in the Woods [18+]

Jackson Neill x Female Reader

For @storiesofsvu​’s Fall Bingo! Requested by @resparza​​! 

Summary: You and Jackson take a trip to New England that goes slightly awry.

Warnings: NSFW, nipple play, fingering, praise, slow gentle sex until the end when it gets a lil rough. Fluffy fluff & the tiniest bit of angst (so Jackson can reassure you). Trans male version here

3,350 words

Jackson made a tiny mistake with the timing. He booked your leaf-peeping getaway for mid-October, when the leaves in the city were just beginning to turn.

When you arrived at your cozy Airbnb in the mountains of Vermont, you were greeted by the awe-inspiring sight of… sticks.

“Goddammit. I forgot how geography works,” Jackson griped, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d been in a sour mood for most of the drive up I-91 when the scenery started to look distinctly more ashen than orange halfway through Massachusetts.

“It’s like we time-traveled two weeks into the future,” you marveled at the bare tree branches rattling in a chilly breeze. Your rustic cedar-shingle cabin was surrounded by forest and at the end of a long dirt driveway. Even without the screen of leaves, you couldn’t see any neighbors.

“So much for leaf-peeping. There are no leaves.”

You picked up a bright red maple leaf from the driveway. “Found one!”

He chuckled at your enthusiasm and shook his head. “If I made our reservation a week earlier, the foliage would be, you know, in trees.”

“Found another!” you pointed at the colorful ground, grinning. “There’s another!” You picked each one up and tossed them at him like confetti.

“Alright!” he groaned, curling his elbow about your neck like a shepherd’s crook to wrangle you in. “I see you refuse to have a miserable time. Won’t even wallow with me for two seconds?”

“I think it’s pretty.” You turned in his arm and kissed him.

The tip of your nose was cold, but your lips were warm as he kissed you back and tried to look on the bright side. Just because things weren’t going to plan didn’t mean he had to relapse into his ingrained Catholic guilt.

***

Since the publication of his book, Meyerism: A New American Religion, Jackson Neill had been receiving threats from the eponymous cult that had him on edge. Not only was he afraid for himself—he wasn’t so macho to pretend otherwise—but he worried about you or his kids getting caught in the crossfire. The deeper he dug into the Meyerist Movement, the more he was convinced they were capable of anything.

This vacation was supposed to be a way to leave all that behind for a weekend, but stress clung to him like spiderwebs.

At least the weather was cooperative. Friday afternoon was clear and sunny—just the right temperature to sit out on the porch with a hot cup of cider. After unpacking, you settled down with Jackson on Adirondack chairs and listened to the sounds of nature as the fading sun slanted orange and red through the forest.

Pops of bright color still stood out amid the dull grey-brown landscape like flames—late trees that had waited for your arrival to change.

“You’re right: it is pretty,” Jackson conceded, your hand nested in his. Your fingertips were getting cold, so he held them to his lips and blew on them.

Tomorrow, you’d go on a nice hike with a beautiful view of the snow-capped Green Mountains. The trip wasn’t a total waste, Jackson thought. He tried to relax.

***

The next morning, you awoke to the pounding of rain on the roof and Jackson pacing downstairs in the living room. The entire cabin creaked and groaned with the force of the wind, and you quickly pulled on a sweater and wool socks before padding down the stairs.

Jackson was tapping at his phone, muttering under his breath, before finally tossing the useless device on the couch with a dry laugh. His apparent crankiness couldn’t have been that bad, though—he’d gotten up early to light about a hundred votive candles, filling the dim living room with flickering golden light. He must have been planning something romantic.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“No signal out here in God’s country,” Jackson rolled his eyes at a wooden cross decorating a door frame, which had not been visible in the listing photographs.

“Isn’t there Wi-Fi?”

Jackson stared at you with lips so thin they vanished into a fine line, and eyes that looked ready to shatter like exploding light bulbs at any moment. “Storm knocked out the power.”

Oh. That was why he lit candles.

“And our hike is canceled, unless you want to go out in that.” A freezing mix of rain and sleet rattled the window panes.

It was easy to let another person’s bad mood get you down, but you tried to stay positive. He’d been so tense lately, he needed support. You both needed this vacation to go well. “That’s OK. We can stay in and get cozy with the fireplace.”

“You would think so,” he gave a humorless chuckle, shaking your arm off to sulk into the open-plan kitchen. “The listing said breakfast was included, but the refrigerator is empty. We’ve got… toast.”

“Maybe we can drive into town? Find one of those quaint little bakeries.”

“Out into the cold,” he sighed. “And we don’t have internet to look a place up. No wonder the host thinks they can get away with starving us—I can’t even call to complain!”

The wall of positivity you’d constructed groaned and cracked, and the anxiety it held back began to stream through. You sank down onto the couch.

Oblivious, Jackson hunted through the charmingly rustic (and empty) cabinets with an increasingly frustrated frown. “This trip is a disaster.” The words stung as surely as if he called you a disaster.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” He turned. Your voice was so quiet he barely heard you say anything.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated so he would hear, lower lip trembling with the effort.

It took him three strides to cross the entire cabin, and he was on top of you, kneeling in front of the couch, stroking your face. “Hey, no, no… What are you talking about?” His green eyes were soft as the hay fields you’d passed yesterday as they searched yours.

“It was my idea to come here,” you sniffed.

“I know.” His head tilted, and frown lines creased his forehead. “I wanted this weekend to be perfect for you, and I can’t get anything right. I don’t know why you’re sorry. This is my fault.”

“But it’s my fault you’re miserable. I thought getting away from the city would be relaxing. I wanted some alone time with you. But you’re not having any fun. I just don’t want you to be upset…”

Something changed in his eyes.

“I… I’m not upset.” His thumb gently stroked your cheek. “I’m not upset at all—not at you. Maybe at myself. Fine, entirely at myself. This was your trip, and I fucked it up. I hate disappointing you.”

A hint of a smile crept back into your face. You covered his hand with your own and turned into it to kiss his palm. “Jax, you could never disappoint me. All I wanted out of this trip was to spend time with you. So long as we’re together, I’m happy.”

“You don’t look happy.” A flicker of a self-deprecating smirk. “Guess I ruined things by being a grouch, huh?”

Your face once again threatened a smile. “No…”

“Yes. I’m a big mean grouch. Come on, you can tell me off,” he grinned, leaning close to your neck and purring his words against your earlobe. “Punish me. Throw a handful of sleet down my shirt. Push me into a pile of wet leaves.”

“Nooo!” you squirmed beneath him, fighting a laugh as he invented tortures for himself and kissed them into your skin.

“Come on, I deserve it.” He pulled back, and a smile broke across his face like dawn to see how your eyes had brightened.

“Alright, alright. Maybe just a little sleet.”

“From now on”—he pressed his lips against your neck again and sucked lightly at the beat of your pulse point—“I promise”—he nibbled his way over your jaw—“to appreciate every moment of our vacation”—his lips ghosted against yours—“and make sure you feel good.”

You pulled him down onto the couch with you, falling back onto the cushions as his lips melted with yours and his tongue hunted for a moan inside your mouth. He found one, long, slow, and tortured as you tasted the raw heat of his apology.

“Mmm,” you hummed as if a chocolate truffle were melting on your tongue. “You want to make me feel good?”

“Yes,” he sighed back, lips moving against your cheek and his hips lazily grinding against your thigh.

“I have a few ideas about how you could do that…”

“So do I.”

His long fingers slid down your stomach and slipped beneath the waistband of your flannel pajama pants. You drew a sharp breath as his pads grazed the top of your slit, and he paused, looking to you with lust-blown eyes for permission to continue. Sucking your lower lip between your teeth, you angled your pelvis to move his fingers onto the aching bud of flesh that sent hot shivers out beneath your skin at the contact.

“Seems we’re on the same page, Dr. Neill,” you whispered, and captured his lips again.

Moaning into the kiss with a dark, gravelly rumble, Jackson let his fingers venture deeper into your folds. You weren’t drenched for him yet. Moments ago, you had been on the verge of crying, and he still had to reassure your body that it was wonderful and loved—but he was a patient man and enjoyed taking his time. Each breath and sigh was a signal he attended like a rapt student in the front row of the classroom, his own pleasure coursing through his veins as he played with your pussylips and brought out your trust and desire.

“Shirt off.”

Nodding, you peeled the hem up over your stomach, and he sat up to help you wriggle it off over your shoulders. While he was at it, he pulled off your pajama bottoms and stripped to his boxers.

“Hey, I’m cold,” you whined, pouting as goosebumps began to prickle over your naked arms.

He pulled the fleece blanket off the back of the couch and covered you both with it. “I’ll keep you warm, querida,” he purred as he lowered himself over you.

A hot flush spread over your skin. You loved when he spoke Spanish—sweetly, with the vocabulary of a 1950s telenovela, and full of diminutives the way his mother used to speak it to him as a child. A well-placed querida or cielito could send shivers up your spine. It was nothing compared to the back-arching jolt a moment later when his tongue teased your nipple.

You cried out, fingers curling sharply into his hair as if his tongue carried an electric charge, unsure if you were trying to push him off or pull him closer and make sure he never stopped. As he gently sucked and your sensitive flesh pebbled into a stiff peak beneath his circling tongue, you were leaning toward the latter. Head thrown back, you gasped out his name, begging for more.

He worshiped your chest, eyes flicking up to meet yours with a playful, attentive expression, but he didn’t give you more, no matter how you clawed at the back of his scalp. His tongue worked in gentle, leisurely circles, tracing one fully before moving on to give attention to the other.

Fingers delving back between your thighs, he found your clit swollen and throbbing. You let out a startled, sobbing moan as he stroked it, your back arching, clinging to his head almost painfully tight to brace against the overwhelming sensation. If he kept touching your two most sensitive areas at the same time, you were going to come fast.

“Easy…” he soothed, sensing your agitated level of arousal. “I want to make this last. Can you be good for me and wait?”

Whimpering, you nodded and loosened your tight grip.

“Yes, Dr. Neill.”

“Good girl.”

As he languidly serviced your nipples, he dragged his fingers lower, through your folds. It still made your skin prickle with wanting, but without direct contact with your clit, you wouldn’t come as fast.

When he found your entrance with the pad of a finger, it was slick enough to press inside without resistance. You let out a delicious, tortured moan as the long digit penetrated your tight walls, opening them a little at a time.

“Fuck, you’re so warm. So wet. That’s my good girl.” He lifted his face from your chest to kiss you in praise.

Your hips writhed to push the finger deeper as you kissed him back. He was hungry to reconnect with you—to go slowly and spend as much time as he could sharing pleasure with your naked body—but you were starving. You might explode if he didn’t fuck you.

He moaned softly as your wetness swallowed more of his finger. “Feels like you’re sucking it. Trying to pull me in. You must want more.”

“Yes… please,” you whined, your hands gripping at his broad shoulders.

A second finger stretched your entrance, and he began slowly fucking you with both.

“Oh, fuck. More! Harder,” you moaned.

“You sound so desperate,” he observed casually. “Like one of my students trying to cram for a test.” Heavy-lidded bedroom eyes betrayed his desire, but he wore a cheeky grin and did not increase his pace.

Wet sounds of flesh filled the cabin, so slow it was torture. “Please, Jackson… please let me come. Please…” you begged, but he just kept watching you studiously, worshipfully, as he fingered you slowly. Enough to keep you begging, but not enough to let you finish.

He was straddling one of your legs, and his cock pressed rock-hard into your thigh. Every so often, you would feel it twitch, usually when his fingers massaged a sensitive spot inside that made you give a satisfying noise, and he could feel your pussy gripping around him. Then he would murmur, “You’re so beautiful. Fuck, you feel so good.”

Only when you were a drooling, trembling mess that could barely string two intelligible words together did he start to actively roll his hips, rubbing his erection against your leg.

“Do you want more?”

“Y-yes,” you sobbed.

He sat back on his haunches, and you wailed as his fingers slipped from your yearning wetness, leaving you so empty. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked softly, so tenderly that “fuck” sounded like the most romantic, poetic word in the English language.

“I love you,” you replied, which wasn’t technically a yes, but made Jackson’s breath catch suddenly in his throat.

“I love you, too, mi corazón.” He tugged the elastic waistband of his boxers down over his straining cock, and, taking it in his hand, notched its thick head against your entrance. His forehead rested against yours as he demanded huskily, “Now tell me you want me inside you.”

You gasped. He was so big and blunt against your tight pussy, you almost didn’t think he could fit. But you knew he could—and you knew that was why he always warmed you up so gradually, so agonizingly, so he would never hurt you. With the crown of his cock stretching your opening, the temptation of being filled by him was so close that an unbearable ache drowned out every other thought.

“I want you, Jackson. I need you.”

A thrill rushed through you as his walls came crashing down. His hips canted forward, and a pleasurable burn filled your depths as his cock stretched you open farther than seemed possible—and you watched his mind empty in that moment. All the stress and worry were gone. Nothing was on his mind but you and how good you felt wrapped around him. Nothing existed for you but him between your legs and the ragged sound of his breathing.

As if to seamlessly replace his fingers with his cock, he set the same languid pace. At first, the difference in girth was enough to make it infinitely more intense. Relief cascaded through you as your pleasure finally began to build toward a finale, heat pooling in your lower body with every thrust. Dipping his head, Jackson found a hardened nipple and sucked it until you were babbling incoherently, hips jerking to add to the depth and friction he was giving you.

“H-harder,” you whispered, and this time, he didn’t tease you.

Your pussy coated his cock with so much cream, he knew you could take all of him. Knew you were ready to snap, and so was he—so his hips pounded faster, thighs slapping your skin, heavy balls swinging against your ass.

“Yes… yes… yes…” he breathed rhythmically, chasing his climax as your arousal coated his cock and slicked your thighs.

“More,” you rasped, though your fingernails were already digging red crescents into his back, the stretch almost too much. He needed a stress release, and you wanted to be his outlet. “Let yourself go.”

A final barrier broke inside him, and he took you so quickly, it was more like jerking himself off with your body than making love. Nothing went through his mind but seeking his own release. For a moment, Even you vanished, and there was nothing but his cock surrounded and gripped by unbelievable warmth. You cried out in pleasure at the new depths he struck with reckless abandon.

His hips stuttered. “Fuck!” he gasped, fingers gripping the couch cushion as his hot seed painted your inner walls.

He panted, going still. After a few moments of catching his breath, cock twitching the remainder of its contents into you, he wiped the sheen of sweat off his brow and opened his eyes.

“You didn’t come, did you?” He gave a sheepish sigh.

“It’s OK. Sometimes it takes me too long… It was fun anyway.”

“Stop that. Whoever gave you those excuses is a fucking idiot.”

Keeping himself sheathed inside you, he reached between your bodies to stroke your clit. You gasped out, finding your body responded quickly with waves of molten heat exploding between your thighs. You were still close to finishing.

Jackson circled his hips, using his spent, tender cock while it was still hard. Though each movement was overstimulating and made his body cry out to stop, he savored the way you responded to the pressure: your eyes squeezing closed, your breath growing shallow. He lowered his mouth to your chest again, stroking your clit faster as he flicked his tongue and rocked his hips in shallow thrusts. Your moans built, louder and more strained, back arching beneath him until finally, you came, walls crashing around him, convulsing and releasing, then clenching down again as your whole body shuddered with wave after wave of ecstasy.

Jackson’s mouth popped off the bud of your nipple as a pained moan tore from his throat. His exhausted cock suffered as your pussy involuntarily tried to milk another orgasm from it, but there was a smile on his lips. A breathy laugh.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “You’re perfect.”

You lay together for a while under the blanket. Even after you’d recovered, your shared body heat was incentive enough not to want to get up yet. The storm outside didn’t relent, and despite the warm light of a hundred flickering candles, the air inside the cabin was chilly. Soon, you would start up the fire in the rustic stone hearth, and you could stay cozy inside all day roasting marshmallows and reading books or playing board games. After a brief trip into town for supplies, that is. Besides, you would have to brave the storm to make good on your promise to slip some ice down his shirt.

For now, Jackson’s face was buried contentedly in the curve of your neck, hot puffs of breath tickling your skin. You held him in your arms, combing your fingers through his hair.

“So,” you murmured. “Enjoying our vacation yet?”

You felt him smile. “It’s everything I needed.”

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tags: @beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @dreamlover31 / @isvvc-pvscvl  / @shroomiehomie / @storiesofsvu / @welcometothemxdhouse / @feedthemadness-sweetie / @law-nerd105 / @amelia-song-pond / @michael-rooker / @xecq / @madpanda75 / @alwaysachorusgirl / @bananas-pajamas / @leanor-min / @mad-girl-without-a-box​ / @katierpblogg​ / @worldofvixen​ / @sassyada​ / @detectivebarba​

[ahiddenpath]

Coping Skills: Taking Care of Yourself with Creativity

I have talked a ton about what practicing your coping skills means as I learned that myself during therapy from early 2019- late 2020 (I went to learn how to manage my anxiety disorder).  But as the pandemic draaaaags on, as we deal with the extended trauma of worrying about covid, intense routine disruption, loss of jobs, getting sick, and losing loved ones, many of us struggle to continue taking care of ourselves with our coping skills.

So I’m corralling all the stuff I’ve learned on the topic in one place, beneath the cut.

Note: this post is purely about using creativity to take care of yourself, not about boosting productivity or refining skills.

What are Coping Skills

For the purpose of this post, coping skills are how we refill our cup after the work day/day of taking care of other people drains our cup to the last drop.  If you live in a capitalistic country, especially America, which offers next to nothing in support for its citizens, then you know what I’m talking about.  A few years of working often more than 40 hours/week and being lucky to have sick days and vacation days...  It does stuff to you, dude.  Consciously taking care of yourself is vital, but...  I wasn’t taught how to do that or what that looks like until I started therapy.

Here’s what I learned:

-The opposite of work (the job where you make money) is not rest (vegging out in front of the TV, lying in bed, staring at social media)

Just to get this out of the way, vegging out isn’t inherently bad.  Everyone does it sometimes, and if you’re relishing it, then go for it!  (And obviously, everyone needs to sleep- DO NOT decrease your sleep time, it’s literally the MOST important aspect of physical health- read this book from your local library, I beg you).

However.

When I started therapy, I told my therapist how I used to create constantly.  I write, sing, play guitar, draw, and dabble in other things.  But for a while before therapy, I lacked the energy to engage in my hobbies.  I spent most of my precious not-at-work time engaged in passive pursuits, like surfing the internet- and feeling just as exhausted when I woke up for work the next day as I did when I returned from work the previous night.

My therapist starting assigning me homework that was really sneaky art projects (”You can just write this down if you prefer, but it helps to visualize it...  Maybe you could paint it as a tree?”).  When the tasks were assigned, I had a deadline to push me into doing them.  I dragged my abandoned art supplies out and painted, drew, wrote, all of it.

I was as exhausted as ever when I started working on the assignments.  After some fumbling, I was focused and happy while working on them.  It wasn’t until I was showing off what I made to my therapist, with no mention of the fatigue I complained of the previous sessions, and saw her grinning that I understood what she was doing!

The opposite of work isn’t rest.  It’s play!  

Play looks vastly different for different people.  For some, it’s partying and social activity.  For others, it’s sports and physical activity.  For me, it’s creating.  When I’m creating, my brain lights up, my mind and emotions are engaged, I feel excited by the possibilities of what I’m making and the satisfaction of creating something for me.  The important thing is to find what makes you excited and fulfilled, and do it.  

For me, creating releases the pressure in my head.  I visualize my brain when I’m not creating as an old timey boiler, swollen with steam pressure that can’t get out.  Creating is my way of turning a valve to let the pressure out.  I literally cannot take care of myself without doing this regularly.

How to Play When You are Exhausted

Okay, so here’s the thing.  Even if you know that engaging in your hobby is vital to refilling your cup and taking care of yourself, you might struggle to do it!  This isn’t because humans are contrary; it’s because we’re depleted.  I spent my first few therapy sessions like this:  “I’m so exhausted, I can only stare at screens, even though I don’t really enjoy that.”  “What do you like to do?  You need to make that part of your daily routine.”  “I JUST SAID I’M TOO TIRED!!!”  And back and forth, until a mixture of my therapist’s assignments and my own desire to move forward pushed me to create, even if I was tired.

Often, starting an activity is the hardest part.  When you’re exhausted, worn down from years of never having adequate time to take care of yourself, your brain pushes against starting an activity with the old standbys:  I’m too tired.  I haven’t done that in so long, I’ll be terrible at it.  I don’t have any inspiration, anyway.  And on and on, until it’s suddenly bedtime.  There’s this... vicious cycle of being too exhausted to create, then being more exhausted because you aren’t filling your cup by creating, and on and on forever.  Breaking out of this can feel impossible.

For me, the most effective technique is to create daily for a period of time, with absolutely no concern about quantity, quality, or any audience besides yourself.  The point is to show up every day and do the thing, with the simple goal of taking care of yourself.  And if you’re someone with multiple creative hobbies, you can swap between them!  Not feeling writing today?  No problem, I’ll draw.  Don’t wanna draw?  I’ve got a voice and a guitar.  And if I’m really not feeling it, I can read- which always juices me up to write.  The key is to do it daily, for whatever time increment you can comfortably manage, in the name of refilling your cup.

For me, routine is the key thing.  If you find yourself mulling over whether you will create today or not, you’ve already lost!  If I plan a 20 minute writing session, I can easily spend 30 minutes arguing back and forth with myself over whether I should actually do it!  I’ve learned through experience that it’s so much faster and more satisfying to routinely sit for the session than to waffle over it.  

It takes time to really learn that, though- it’s one of those things you have to experience to absorb.  Don’t feel bad if it’s a struggle for a while!

Are You Creating for the Right Reasons?

In my early 20s, I genuinely believed that all the creative stuff I did was...  Sort of a stretch goal?  Extra credit?  Like, “Wow, I work a demanding job, but I still managed to write x number of words and make y number of drawings!”  I didn’t realize that I was lovingly taking care of myself by creating, and I’m not sure if I was mature enough to value that, regardless.  As a 90s kid who grew up with parents expecting me to excel across the board (academics, sports, creative pursuits, behavior, all of it), I saw the numbers I generated and felt proud of that.  I was making stuff!  More stuff than most people!  I wasn’t goofing off in my spare time!  I was *Excelling*!  

Yikes.  I think many people my age (Millennials) were explicitly taught to think this way as kids.  But as an adult, there are no...  You know, “whoever read the most books gets a prize!”  “Whoever ran the fastest gets a ribbon!”  You just, uh, try to get a job, pay the bills, and grasp for happiness in the slivers of time in between.  Your hobby isn’t something you should be trying to win.  I’d encourage you not to morph it into some kind of... competition with no one.

If you post what you make online, you might feel another pressure: to release content on a regular schedule or otherwise engage with your audience.  You might also feel pressure to make something you think your audience will enjoy, even if you’re not super into it.  Or maybe you joined some kind of online challenge, like Nanowrimo or Inktober.

Assuming that creating is your hobby, not your livelihood (I don’t have any experience with that), I would gently encourage you to create in a way that brings you happiness, not stress.  It doesn’t really matter how many words you write or finished art pieces you make.  What matters is the time you spent creating, refilling your cup and focusing your energies to make something that matters to you.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to produce lots of content, though, and there’s nothing wrong with events like Nanowimo or Inktober!  In fact, I like them!  Just remember to take care of yourself, not punish yourself with something you’re supposed to enjoy.

My personal perspective is that, as a hobbyist, I create to take care of myself.  My ��create time” is a little daily date with myself to do something I love.  That’s all this is, which sounds so simple...  But for me, it’s literally the difference between feeling like a depleted zombie and like a reasonably happy and fulfilled human.  Wild, right?

In Summary:

-Coping skills are how we refill our cup

-The opposite of work is play, not vegging out

-Daily timed sessions are a great way to make taking care of yourself through your hobbies happen.  Even fifteen minutes can give you some pep!

-If I may, I encourage you to try creating with the sole goal of taking care of yourself

I know I’ve said this several different ways, but our lives are set up in such a way that enjoying the things we love can feel impossible.  I often see people say things like, “Don’t put pressure on yourself to engage in your hobby!  Take care of yourself!”  To me, this is utterly backwards- our hobbies, aka our coping skills, are crucial to self care.  But with our entire lives organized around preparing for work as students and working as adults, hobbies are often seen as... a pressure?  Another darn thing to fit into the cracks?  Something that takes time away from surviving work and accomplishing the absolute basics, like feeding ourselves?    

Funny how something so crucial to our happiness is often the first thing to be dropped in the name of “taking care of ourselves.”

That said, it is so easy to morph hobbies into yet another pressure (see the “Are you creating for the right reasons” section), but doing the thing that makes you happy is vital to taking care of yourself.  The important thing is engaging with it in a low stress way, with the goal of self care.

We need to take care of ourselves now more than ever, and I wish you all the best in learning what that looks like for you.

[fabianocolucci]

Can we have one lighthearted and optimistic show or movie for once?

Hello, I am writing this post because I have read that the CW is making a TV show about the PowerPuff Girls, except they’re going to be depicted as “20-somethings who are disillusioned after having spent their childhood fighting crime”.

Reading that angered me, I have to admit it, because this is just the latest of a never ending series of shows and movies that try to take something that is supposed to be lighthearted, funny and optimistic and turn it into something dark and edgy about how much life sucks, trying to highlight that “we live in a society” and so on.

Riverdale is the example many people come up with most of the time, and I can see why: its shared universe (which includes The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina) is a textbook example of how Hollywood keeps handling these things. However, what many people fail to realize is that this trend has been going on since long before the CW took Archie Andrews and the others and tried to be as dark and edgy as they can.

When Batman Begins proved to be a huge hit, and it was followed by an even greater hit (The Dark Knight), Hollywood apparently thought that the reason of its success was that it tried to be darker and edgier. However, those things worked only because Christopher Nolan wanted to take a popular superhero and tried to depict him in a more realistic tone (after all, their movies may be even darker than what Batman is supposed to be, unless you take in consideration any Batman comic written by Frank Miller).

Since then, we’ve seen countless movies, games and shows that tried to be so dark they’ve become bleak and, honestly, even a bit bland.

On the superhero side, we’ve seen multiple depictions where, for instance, Superman has become evil and is now a force that needs to be stopped (they even made a movie about this being a possibility, as if it’s inevitable), while we’ve seen at least four live-action depictions of Batman being a killer hero who has lost his vision and hope (to the point where Batwoman casually mentioning how Batman has a no killing code was enough to make that world’s Batman a lighter version than what is the current trend). The Netflix shows about Marvel superheroes even made it look like the Avengers’ arrival caused nothing but problems for New York (admittedly, they kind of have to depict New York this way, otherwise it would feel weird how there’s so many superheroes in that city and yet crime is still a thing).

On the fantasy side, because of Game of Thrones’ success, now every fantasy TV show wants to emulate it, and as such we have bleak, humorless worlds where there’s a lot of darkness, with constant “mature” content like swearing and sex (The Witcher is a great show, but they could have toned it down a bit, in that context). It’s like even a genre whose name is literally “fantasy” can’t escape in trying to depict a more gritty and real world where everything always has to be dark.

On the science fiction side, well, we’ve seen the new Star Wars movie, which took the ending of Episode VI, which was full of optimism and hope, and basically said “nope, everything now is so dark and lonely”. I guess one of the reasons why you could pretend the sequel trilogy never happened is that, well, they end with a more positive note than whatever happened after episode IX.

On the TV side, there isn’t just Riverdale or the upcoming PowerPuff Girls show. The Winx Saga has taken away all the color of the cartoon (no, seriously: everything is so grey and soulless looking in the TV show that someone may have to tell you they’re supposed to be The Winx Club in live action). The Nancy Drew show now is a dark mystery more in line with Riverdale actually. Netflix is making an Avatar show and apparently they want to age up the characters “so that they can have sex” (which somewhat implies that there’s someone who looked at 12 year old Aang or 14 year old Katara and thought “I want to see them have sex”, which is so creepy and disturbing that I even regret pointing it out).

This would not be such a big deal if there wasn’t the fact that we’re talking about the vast majority of big movies and shows! Even something funny like Lost in Space has been turned into a dark remake.

Why is it so hard to find something in Hollywood that doesn’t try to be dark and depressing? Well, I think there are multiple reasons, which I’m going to point out:

·       There is this idea among writers that drama is the only thing that keeps the plot interesting. Characters need to have tragedies thrown at them all the time, they constantly have to fight and (usually) heavens forbid if they even try to lighten up a bit. This is, of course, wrong, as shown by how many fanfiction writers take characters who have a life made of day-by-day drama and depict them in quiet scenes like them making a meal for their beloved or just going to a vacation where they can relax. Just because depicting nothing but quiet and peaceful moments can become boring on the long run, doesn’t mean it can never happen;

·       Because we live in dark times, then everything has to be dark. It’s as if people can’t experience any sort of hopeful escapism when out there it seems like nothing but tragedies and negativity occurs outside of their windows. Illnesses, war, deaths, recessions and so on happen 24/7, so how can you showcase even a bit of positivity? Well, I have one question: what kind of escapism would constantly remind you of the very thing you are trying to temporarily escape from? If I want to forget about the World’s problems for an hour, then why on Earth are you making me think about them? Who decided that the best way of forgetting that life sucks is to have your story say “life sucks” all the time? I don’t understand;

·       Writers are probably influenced by the “loser culture” on the internet. I mean, wherever you go on social media, people seem to have a race to see who has the most miserable life. Many comic artist have their characters experience all sorts of problems and negativity, there’s a lot of memes about negative stuff (how many times have you seen a wholesome post with a reblog or a retweet adding something negative? For example, I don’t know, someone tweets “I asked my mom a puppy, she brought me five of them” and someone says “if I asked it to my mom, she’d bring five slaps to my butt”). Of course, if I, a writer, see that people can’t stop talking about how much their life suck, I would think “well, maybe that’s all they want to hear about” and make characters with miserable lives;

However, I have always noticed how there’s a medium who seems to not be easily affected by all this stuff: animation.

You want a fantasy show where everything is colorful and bright? There’s lots of cartoons for that.

You want to see superheroes doing their best to fight for the good of the World? There’s plenty of them in animation.

You want hope and positivity? Tune in on any station that airs cartoons and you will find it.

However, the problem is that this goes hand to hand with the old stigma that, well, “cartoons are for kids”, so it feels like movies and TV shows are saying “positivity and happiness are for children. Grow the hell up and see how dark and hopeless the World truly is!”.

Why is trying to be positive and optimistic something that can’t happen if you’re a mature person? Why is it so wrong to just want to see a bit of peace in these media?

I don’t know what else to say or to add, so it’s best if I finish my post right here. So, here’s my opinion:

Even though it is okay for you to tell me a story where nothing matters, where “we live in a society” and where you can’t have good things, it should be balanced with something. Have you ever seen the Yin Yang symbol? Why do you think it depicts darkness with a little bit of light? Because nothing can be completely dark. So, just try to add some good energy in your story. It won’t be an issue for anybody to just have one moment where everyone smiles.

[clayanddust]

Mercenary Bugologist (Anita + Clay)

Participants: Anita Nieves (Karli- Lamia), Clay Hale (Tapir- Hunter) 

Location: Casa De Nieves

Summary: Anita and Clay meet to discuss exciting opportunities in the monster bug market. 

Content Warning: some bug gore, med blood tw

 Clay parked the truck and double checked the Dark Score address on his phone. The Hunter groaned and rubbed his eyes, muscles begging for sleep as the livid bruises now blooming on his face and neck were making their angry presence known. Clay reached into his beige military jacket and slowly divested himself weapons, storing them discreetly in the truck until he was practically naked with just a Sig Sauer and some knives.

As we all know from National Geographic, scientists are easily spooked by machetes.

Clay lifted the tarp on the back of his truck and was assured the grizzly corpses were still there and not yet becoming some sorta frankenstein abomination.  He jogged up to the small house, and uselessly tried to wipe black insectile blood off his hands on equally stained jeans before knocking.

If Anita hadn’t been so desperate for a paying gig she probably would have told this guy off online and then never thought about the interaction again. But she was desperate for a paying gig which is why she found herself covering her home office with sheets of plastic while she waited for some internet stranger to deliver her bugs to dissect. It felt like one of those moments where you look back and go ‘ah yes, that was the point of no return.’ It wasn’t long after she had set up her insect kill room when she heard a few knocks at her front door. Now all there was left to do was hope that he wasn’t secretly there to kill her. As Anita drew closer to the front door she recognized the very familiar smell of bug guts, and felt her nerves calm down a bit. She opened the door, but not too wide as to immediately welcome him in, “Wow, you look like absolute shit.”

“Thanks, squalid is my love language,” Clay replied, grin bright through the bruises. But the smile did not reach the Hunter’s cold dark eyes. His gaze sized up zzz Anita in a surgical moment before flicking around the surroundings, the snowy lakeside, the barren trees, as if something could jump them both at any time.

“So want to see what you're workin with and before we bring the gribblies inside,” suggested Clay with a nod towards the truck and the tarp over its back.

“Well, you must feel surrounded by love right now then.” There was something almost eerie to Anita about the way he had smiled, it felt like an empty gesture intended to put her at ease while doing the exact opposite. Following his eyes, she noticed him taking in the surroundings as if the trees might become sentient and attack. Which, admittedly, in this town wouldn’t be all that shocking. “Relax, Rambo. Nobody’s gonna interrupt today’s main event, ok?”

Nodding, Anita stepped out onto her front porch, closing the door behind her as she began to walk over to the truck parked in her driveway. “Do you know what sort of species you brought or did you just kill first and hope you got something of value?”

Anita’s quip seemed to set Clay at ease, sardony perhaps being a communication style the Hunter was more familiar with. “Alrigh’ but if I’m bout to get eaten by your pet man-gator I’ll haunt you listening to Three Days Grace in my skivvies.”

This dire threat thus levied, Clay walked to the truck and vaulted one-handed into the truck bed with casual alacrity. He pried back the tarp to reveal the spindly forms of massive mosquitos, each with the thorax the size of a human child and gossamer wings twice that length. Their proboscises were like dark chitinous spears. “Moskittos,” the Hunter provided.”They produce a powerful anticoagulant that’d made very value heart thinners and heart meds if extracted properly.”

“My man-gator is actually vacationing in Florida for the season, he’ll be real sorry he missed eating you though,” Anita found it amusing that he was very wrong about what kind of reptile he needed to be worried about eating him. Fortunately for him she needed money right now more than she needed a meal.

“Wow…” Anita remarked softly as the tarp was lifted. She had examined a Moskitto or two before, but it had taken weeks for her to track it and then figure out how to capture it without it making a meal of her. The fact that this man managed to get a whole truck load of them sent a small chill down her spine. She really should have learned more about him before inviting her to her home. “Some collectors like to buy their proboscis. Not really sure why, but they do.”

“You're an old hand with the cryptids and mutants then,” noticed Clay at her remark about the market for creepy bug-spears, looking down at  Anita from where he sat atop the truck’s tailgate. The Slayer seemed to look over the scientist again, as if reassessing her, but the amiable calm of his features and hard jasper eyes gave no hint at what conclusion he’d come to. “Good, we don’t have to go through the whole Bigfoot chat,” he affirmed.

“The anticoagulant can carry diseases if it’s not extracted properly which is part of why I’d prefer an expert handles that part,” admitted Clay, “Interested?”

Last time Anita was in town she was far more reserved about admitting to her knowledge of the ‘cryptids and mutants’, but that ultimately never really benefited her. So she decided to stop caring so much about tipping her hand about these sorts of things. Besides, the guy was at her house with a truck full of supernatural bugs - feigning shock or lack of knowledge seemed counterproductive. “I actually heard a rumor that there's a bigfoot roaming around lately. Might be a kerashag or something,” she added with a shrug.

“Yeah, these guys can carry a whole host of nasty infections. I performed a dissection of one a few years back.” As Anita looked back over at the guy there was a part of her that wished she had pushed for a higher percentage of the take. Sure, he risked his skin killing these things but one wrong slice of her scalpel and she could get very sick rather quickly. “You have a partner in the killing of these things too, or that all you?”

“A Shaggy huh?” Clay asked, drawing his own surmises about Ex-Professor Nieves from her use of the necrophage’s proper name. “I hope so, if anything that big is being seen by normies, I’d rather it be those hair-chewer Chewbacas y’know? They don’t hurt nobody.”

Clay listened to Anita talk about her dissection, sitting on the top of the tailgate, arms resting laxly on the knees of his jeans. Late evening light refracted off Dark Score Lake, the setting sun spreading one last corridor of gold along its surface, surrounded by the darker violet and blue mirrored from the eventide above. In the distance Clay could make out the weathered shells of abandoned vacation homes poking out like opponent bone mounds in sleeping winter woodland. Clay guessed that Anita Nieves was more than just an itinerant academic looking for some solitude, but the Slayer had more than enough on his hands just keeping Spawn and Alghouls from overrunning White Rest without alienating people who could help keep him funded.

“Just me this time,” Clay admitted. “When there’s a rush of anemia cases at the hospital it can give Dracula vibes,” the Slayer continued with the casualness of a professional discussing the mundane intrigues of the office. “But often it's something simpler,” Clay said, nodding down to the truck bed full of bloodsuckers more mundane than ravenous corpses. “So what got you into cryptid bugs Nieves,” Clay asked, keeping the questions on Anita’s profession rather than the far more sensitive topics of species. “You find a specimen scientific journals wouldn’t accept or something?”

If Anita hadn’t put it all together before, it was apparent to her now. The man was some sort of hunter. Judging by his dracula hunter, likely a slayer. Though in her experience, just because a hunter wasn’t the type to typically kill her kind - didn’t mean they would never do so. And now this one knew her name, and her address, and that she was no stranger to the strange world they were both a part of. “Normies,” she repeated softly, wondering if that comment was his way of suggesting he didn’t think she was one.

“And you normally go chasing after Dracula vibes? Sounds quite dangerous.” Anita leaned against Clay’s truck, careful to press her body against part of it that wasn’t covered in fresh bug intestines. Crossing her arms as she listened to his question, she began thinking about the version of the truth she was willing to tell him. “My father was incredibly prominent in the pest control business down in Mexico. Sometimes he would get calls for, well - how did you put it? - really big bugs. It’s one thing to hear stories of creatures like this, but once you see one for yourself …” She trailed off, letting the implication of acceptance end the story. “I know the larger scientific community isn’t ready to accept these truths, but I’m a scientist. Once I knew things like this were out there, I wanted to study them. Only the bugs, of course. Girl’s gotta have a specialty.”

The story was the truth, save for the omission of her own species. Anita didn’t need him knowing that though. She may be in business with him but she sure as hell didn’t trust him. “How’d you get into killing things like these and scrapping them for parts?”

“Only if people might get hurt,” was Clay's stance on chasing Dracula vibes. “Best leave dark castle’s with lots of lightning and moody fog alone y’know,” was the Slayer’s sardonic tip of the hand to what the limits of his aggressive cryptozoology were. Besides, what's even the point of trying to take revenge on a virus?

“That’s brave of you,” noted Clay from his tailgate perch. “You’re dad too. I mean it,” he followed up quickly. “All this stuff can bring on some real vertigo, and going against the consensus and dealing with the gaslighting takes guts,” noted the Hunters whose duties regularly included the very kind of occlusion and cover-ups he was praising Anita for overcoming.

“Oh y’know,” Clay previarticated, “Rural living, hunting elk and the sorta thing,” was true. “Once day you learn fairy tales are real but they are more dangerous than charming, buuuuuuuuuut,” Clay shrugged, his dimpled smirk full of the phlegmatic ruefulness of someone who’d survived a war only to realize they’d been a casualty after all. “But rent and shit doesn’t stop just cuz Tinkerbell and Nellie are real, right? The dead are rising and Hell’s full, but late stage capitalism keeps rolling on,” Clay observed merrily, pointer fingers making motions evocative of wheels.

“Besides,” Clay noted more soberly, “those fucking fairy tales wrecked alot of lives back home,” the Appalachian son said. “Cutting up those fairy tales and selling them gave my neighbors another chance at normalcy,” admitted the zombie outbreak survival.

“Yeah, best leave the dark spooky castles to the Buffy’s of the world, huh?” There was a combination of sarcasm and realism in Anita’s voice, almost as if she was daring him to admit that slayers were real too. Or even, given his own choice to bring up Dracula and blood sucking, that he might be one himself. It was hard for her to hold back a laugh when Clay called her father brave. The man was plenty of things, brave would never be one of them. “I’ve done my fair share of gaslighting. It’s easy to deal with when you know the signs.”

The accent in the bug-slayer’s voice and his comment about ‘back home’ told Anita that he also wasn’t a White Crest native. Which wasn’t surprising considering the type of people who seemed to gravitate to this place. “So you’re a modern-day Robin Hood, huh? Save people from things that go bump in the night and then make sure you get paid for your efforts. Or, well, maybe Robin Hood isn’t the best comparison. But, ya know,” she shrugged then shoved her hands in her pockets as the cold air was starting to get to her. “I’m sure your neighbors appreciate whatever amount of normalcy you were able to restore.”

“I think Rob had a decent idea until he became a simp for King Richard ,” noted Clay breezily, as if the 13th century English Outlaw was someone currently getting ratioed on Twitter. “I don’t have those delusions of grandeur, ….because I’m not a Disney furry bait fox,” he noted with a sage nod, as if not being an animated fox from 1973 was the sole reason for discretion. “Also like, Richard the First was a complete fucking monster so y’know, weird that Rob was cool with him after fighting John for so long,” Clay shook his head with a playfully disapproving expression, as if finding the Disney Fox’s antifacist cred lacking. “Yikes Rob.”

Clay noted Anita’s movement, “Kay do you want me to bring these inside?”

Anita knew that something she had said sparked this seemingly unprompted history lesson, but for the life of her she had no idea what that something had been. She was all about learning, but she tended to care far more about science than history… or Disney foxes? So she just nodded and laughed where it seemed appropriate. His next question made sense, but as Anita looked over at the mound of bug parts in his trunk she realized that she should have covered her hallways in plastic sheeting, not just the office. “Yeah, gotta get them into the makeshift lab somehow.” She scrunched up her face in thought as she tried to figure out how to do so easily and cleanly. “Unfortunately the office is at the back of the house… so I can help you carry these if you need?”

Clay cocked his head at Anita’s noncommittal laughter, expression thoughtful. “You don’t have’ta pretend I’m funny or make sense if you don’t want to y’know,” Clay said with the air of man shrugging off some triviality of etiquette. “It’s just us and Nessie out here,” the mutant pointed out, looking out over the black slate waters of Dark Score Lake spread out beneath the pale pinpricks of emerging stars. “I’m a big boy, Professor. Don’t have to protect me from my dysfunction,” he promised with a wry chuckle of someone who wasn’t quite broken enough yet to escape the bite of self-awareness. “Kind of you though.”

“Sure,” Clay affirmed at her instructions. The Hunter hefted several of the child-sized insects up and over his arms with unnatural ease before jumping down from the trunk. Thick yellow hemolymph oozed from bullet holes in each of the monstrous flies, dripping down Clay’s jacket sleeves and leaving a musty-smelling trail on the grass as walked towards the house’s back door.

Most people didn’t call Anita out on feigning interest. Then again she wasn’t usually feigning interest around men, she often let her disinterest in those circumstances be obvious. Which is probably why she was caught off guard when he called her out so spectacularly. “Actually, it’s just us. Nessie migrates for the winter season.” There was something really reassuring about him being so self-aware.

As Anita watched Clay begin to carry the bugs to the back door it became incredibly apparent how messy this was going to get. And quickly. She reached into the bed of the truck and grabbed one Moskitto, holding it as far away from her body as she could as she quickly tried to catch up with her temporary business partner. “Be careful! You’ve gotta go through the back part of the kitchen to get to the office. And I only had enough plastic sheets to cover the office!” Despite carrying more insects than she was, he somehow was moving at twice her speed.

Clay paused at the back door and froze, listening, dark eyes scanning the houses’ interior through the crack of a door. The Slayer held completely still as the threshold for a full minute before continuing into the premises without acknowledgement of the pause. Even with his burdens, Clay moved through the kitchen with a physical ease born both from strength and the subtler confidence of not being made awkward by others’ boundaries or space. It was an invasive boldness reserved for radiant extroverts, rich men, and seasoned criminals. Clay Hale was only one of these things.

Yellow hemolymph dribbled on plastic sheets as Clay turned in place at the waist, scanning Anita’s insectile menagerie with interest. “So where do you want me to put these?”

Anita watched the bug slayer stand at the entryway to her house for what seemed like forever. She wasn’t fully sure what he was doing, whether he was contemplating how to get the bugs inside without making a mess or if he had maybe just… broken? Either way he was letting a pile of dark yellow goop form on her back porch. These fucking bugs must have only been dripping their intestines really slowly because as she and Clay brought them through the kitchen they left a long sticky trail of this ember discharge behind.

“Right on that covered table is fine.” Anita had dragged her kitchen table into the room and covered it to use as a makeshift operating table. Not like she used it for eating anyway. She crossed the room and put the single insect she had been carrying down on the table, then turned to the strange man she had invited into her home, “You wanna go get the last few of them? I’ll start preparations for these guys.” She thought for a moment about making some jab about being more careful walking through the house this round, but she didn’t know if he would potentially dock some of her pay for the job if she was too rude. “Careful not to slip on the trail of internal fluids these things left behind.”

[jokertrap-ran]

(未定事件簿) EVENT!「异乡行歌·上篇」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: Romantic Rail Getaway- First Half Translations (Lu Jinghe’s Route)

Day 1: Xiangya City― Rainforest Invitation (象雅城: 雨林的邀约)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *The tracking tag for ALL Event Stories will go under: #Tears of an Event

Location: Railway Tour's Starting Station

I'd once heard of the saying, that Tanbuyani's Railway Tour was equivalent to a silken string of pearls.

Guided by this silken thread, one will be able to experience and relish in the charm of the very country itself.

Lu Jinghe: I've looked at the train route, and it looks like the first stop's at Xiangya City.

Lu Jinghe: How about we head on down to their resort and have a look around later? Let's not wear ourselves out too much on our first day here, save some energy, and take our time to slowly enjoy everything after!

MC: Okay! I saw on the guide that there was a very big folk custom workshop down at the resort; do you want to try your hand at wood carving?

Lu Jinghe: I'll accompany you if you want to.

We happily carried on, discussing our trip arrangements.

The rest of the guests, in front of the train platform, were also anticipating what was to come in the wonderful journey up ahead, just like us.

Speaking of this trip, Lu Jinghe was actually the one who brought it up first.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Location: Home

Lu Jinghe: Heya, sis. You're on a long vacation as of late, yes? Have you got any travel plans?

MC: Hm… I haven't really thought of it. Come hit me up again after I get a couple of snoozes!

Lu Jinghe: How about considering going on Tanbuyani's Railway Tour with me after you've caught enough z's?

Lu Jinghe: It's a boutique, luxurious, high-end, independent tour; with a travel itinerary planned and presented to you by PAX's Chairman himself!

MC: Tanbuyani? Why do you suddenly want to go there out of the blue?

This name, one that I'd only seen in geography books, filled me with utter confusion.

Tanbuyani was a small country located near the equator, but although it boasted stunningly breath-taking sceneries, it's economy was well underdeveloped.

No matter how I thought about it, going to this sort of remote location wouldn't be his first choice at all.

Lu Jinghe: For work, of course. PAX has invested in a rainforest development project over there, so I'm preparing to head down and have a look at it for myself.

Lu Jinghe: And while I'm at it… I can bring you along for you to have fun, kick back and relax for a few days.

MC: I see. Maybe I'll think about it...

Lu Jinghe: Nope, stop thinking about it and just go pack your luggage. I'll come pick you up to the airport tomorrow, bye!

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Lu Jinghe's actions were swift, and we were already aboard a private plane bound for Tanbuyani on the second day.

Upon landing, we were immediately transferred to the starting station of the Railway Tour; he'd arranged everything to perfection.

It was just as he said. This was a relaxing, yet intriguing trip, where anticipation ran high.

MC: Right, didn't you say back in the phone call we had before that you're here because of a… Rainforest project?

Lu Jinghe: Yup. PAX plans on establishing a nature reserve in the Imana Rainforest and study the "Parrot Tail Flower”.

MC: Parrot Tail Flower?

Lu Jinghe: A rare flower of medicinal value that one of our people coincidentally discovered back when they came down here to talk about the conservation project.

MC: ...That sounds like the sort of miraculous life-saving celestial grass you hear about in myths and legends.

Lu Jinghe: Perhaps; but I'm not too sure about the specifics either.

Lu Jinghe: The person in charge of the project will be picking us up when we reach Xiangya City, so you can ask him more about it then.

MC: ...There's PAX personnel in Xiangya City?

Lu Jinghe: He's there on business today, so I called him up for a chat, and so that I can have a grasp on how the project's progressing while I'm at it. It's called being prepared for anything and everything.

The sides of his lips curled upwards, a clear smile flashing across his eyes.

Lu Jinghe: Okay, enough about this. Let's think about how we're going to have a happy and delightful lunch aboard the train first.

Lu Jinghe: The train's restaurant serves Tanbuyani's local delicacies, as well as  a delicious, mouth-watering buffet of western food; what do you want to eat?

MC: Mm…

Since I'm already here and all, it's only logical to try out their local delicacies…

But then, I remembered just what those "local delicacies" are, from back when I was checking out the guide.

Things like grilled rainforest ants, stuffed cicada pupae, roasted scorpions… If it just so happens that those atop the plate that the waiter brings up later were...

Do I really want to challenge myself with them?

▷Choice: Western food buffet

MC: I’m getting the western food buffet.

Lu Jinghe: Sure thing. I'll go book us a luxurious buffet then; we'll be able to partake in it once we board the train later.

Lu Jinghe: But… Are you sure you don’t want to try Tanbuyani’s local delicacies?

Lu Jinghe: I heard that there's a type of Black bean-orange Fried Rice that's really delicious; one of the 10 special delicacies that's an absolute must have for tourists!

MC: I do want to, actually… But it'd be a tragedy if something… weird's in the food...

Lu Jinghe: You do have a point. We're not in a hurry, so we can take it slow and observe the tables of the other guests who've ordered it.

Lu Jinghe: And then, we can still make it in time for the order if you want to eat them afterwards.

MC: Okay, let's just happily leave it as that for now!

▷Choice: Local delicacies

MC: Oh, I've decided! I want to try Tanbuyani's local delicacies!

MC: The guide on the internet said that the Black bean-orange Fried Rice available on the train's menu is an absolute must have! And everyone who ate it all said that it's good!

MC: Want to order one together with me?

Lu Jinghe: Let me tell you a secret. Actually… I was about to recommend you the same, but I never thought you'd be the one to take the words out of my mouth.

Lu Jinghe: I guess our hearts really are connected!

His brows were quirked in a smile, and he appeared "quite proud" of himself.

I couldn't resist teasing him a little.

MC: Are you absolutely sure about your decision? There'll be no going back if it doesn't taste all that nice.

Lu Jinghe: Come on, have more confidence in yourself! We have to believe that our choice is the right one!

His eyebrows crooked along with a smile, and I could almost smell the fragrance of the sweet and aromatic orange rice just by looking into his eyes.

MC: I can't wait to try it out for myself already!

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

"Chooo…", went the long whistle of the train's horn as it slowly drew up to the platform.

Lu Jinghe stood up, dragging both of our big luggage in tow with a wink.

Lu Jinghe: Come on then. Our rainforest adventure is going to begin!

MC: Yeah! Here we go!!

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅ Romantic Rail Getaway⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Next Part: (Day 1: Xiangya City― Resort Entertainment Area)

[modernseawitch]

So Why a Sea Witch?

Although I have been practicing for quite a while, it was with limited knowledge until recently. As I have mentioned before, I purposefully did not look at social media, the Internet, or books regarding witchcraft because I wanted no trace of the subject linked to me. My practice up until that point revolved around me searching for something that provided me solace. I did not have to think real hard to figure that one out. For me, that has always been the ocean.

I have been fortunate enough to have lived all of my life, at the most, only a few hours away from the ocean. When I would feel overwhelmed, it was always the place that I went to or if I could not physically go there, I visualized it. The first hint of the briny tang in the air would relax the tension in my shoulders and remind me sanctuary was close at hand. The cry of the seagulls would lead me closer, across the dunes and down to the wrack line where sea shells and other treasures awaited me. The muscles at the base of my skull would begin to release the tension they held. I watched the pelicans, wings spread wide, as they skimmed mere inches above the swells, their large bills ready to dip into the water for a fish. The sandpipers with their tall legs darted between the breaking waves and stabbed their long thin beaks into the sand for their meal. Then I would drift closer until I finally reached that place between the ebb and flow of the waves. Where you could first feel Mother Ocean’s enveloping embrace. That place that was neither here nor there, where the concept of time no longer mattered. Where the sound of the crashing surf drowned out the negative energy that threatened to consume me. Where I cleansed my soul.

I had made the ocean part of my practice intuitively. I meditated to the sounds of the surf when I needed to quiet the noise of daily life. The ocean’s colors soothed me and I surrounded myself with them. The plants that I grew in my garden were selected to remind me of being along the shoreline. Shells and coral were always on display inside and outside of my home. They provided the grounding effect of the earth element along with the plants, and I drew strength from their presence when I needed it. Their tough exteriors had once shielded a fragile life hidden inside. I crafted windchimes with the shells that I collected to capture the breeze. I also used shells to hold tea lights, lining them with a bed of sea salt or sand that I had also collected. I used shells to hold jewelry when I washed my hands at the sink. I filled vases with them to support floral displays and used them to adorn centerpieces on my dining table. I even made them into tree ornaments. One of my dogs and my cat are both obsessed with them and are always stealing them from the tree.

It took me quite a while to realize what I had done. These items were not simple trinkets that I could easily part with as I could with other pricier souvenirs from other destinations. The practices that I had employed were not simply to make me feel better momentarily. They represented a deeper connection that I needed to acknowledge. I NEED the ocean. It’s an essential part of me. The longer that I stay away from it, the more irritable I get, just ask my husband.

We have all heard that a vacation at the beach is relaxing but for me it is a little different, it restores the balance that I need. I have always loved vacationing at the beach and have done so at every opportunity that I could. I go there frequently even for just the day no matter the time of year. My friends give me strange looks when I have the urge to drive three hours to the ocean in the middle of Winter just to walk along the surf and then drive another three hours back home, especially when I live along another larger body of water that has beaches. It’s just not the same for me, I have tried. I have experience with both the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, as well as other larger bodies of brackish water. I am not able to put my finger on it exactly, but there is a tangible difference for me between the two types of water.

Maybe it just comes down to the salinity levels. I guess you could say I’m a bit of a salty witch…okay you can close the browser now, I’ll understand. I have a specific affinity for islands, being completely surrounded by the ocean allows me easier access to its energy I suppose. It is something that I intend to add to my list of studies. I am grateful that I have access to barrier islands that are protected and left wild. I can sit and absorb the wisdom of the ocean for as long as I like without being disturbed by anything except for the local wildlife. I’m an island girl and nothing is going to change that. I was fortunate enough to live on an island for a few years and spent most weekends camped on the beach. I never sleep better than when my head is cradled by the sand and the surf is my lullaby. Seashells, coral, and sand are still my favorite keepsakes and I know my husband will just shake his head as I always bring home more to add to my collection.

When I made the decision to openly practice, I had declared to my husband “I’m a sea witch!” His response, “Awesome! I’m sure you can arrange that I will come back with a nice catch on my next fishing trip.” It wasn't until I decided to practice openly that I allowed myself to start exploring social media on the topic of witchcraft. Lo and behold, I found an abundance of posts regarding the question, "What type of witch are you?" I had no idea there were so many classifications, at least according to social media. I just figured a witch is a witch but I liked the idea of being a sea witch. I had seen boats and cottages with that moniker long before exploring social media and loved the image it evoked in my mind. While I identify myself as a sea witch, I would have to say my practice is more eclectic. I love incorporating elements of the sea into my practice, but I find all forms of the natural world intriguing and don't limit my practice to solely the watery realm. I am free to learn many traditions and practices and then decide what fits best for me. While these social media posts are fun to read and sometimes give me something to explore and think about, I keep in mind that there is no need to pigeonhole myself. My practice should be as unique as the individual I am.

-The Modern Sea Witch

[sinsbymanka]

Hey. I'm sorry. So. Your post about sunseekerknight is really long and it seems out of date. I thought everything had been resolved and she promised to make amends but this all started back around again and it sounds like your issue isn't solved. Can you update me real quick? Sorry.

Thanks for being polite and coming to me. I’ll try to summarize things to the best of ability while also noting this is kinda a clusterfuck. It got long, so it’s under a cut.

In March 2020, I commissioned @sunseekerknight (I’m blocked so I can’t actually @ her) to do a Tarot Card commission of my Inquisitor for $80. I sent the money via PayPal friends and family as she requested which is something I no longer do for artists, even though I’d done it before with no problems. 

The main post goes over my initial experience really well - the repeated attempts at contact and missed deadlines. This post was made on June 18, 2020 and blew up. I informed Ada that day I was making the post and she told me she’d be doing so as well. 

I’d already filed the PayPal claim which was ultimately denied because I’d sent the money via friends and family, despite SSK’s assurances she’d help me resolve it in my favor. 

I didn’t hear from SSK after this and I didn’t contact her. My father passed away on June 20th and I was busy dealing with the personal fallout of that (he’d been in the hospital the whole month of June as it was) so my priorities swung towards processing my own grief and planning what happens next. 

On July 10th, my PayPal claim was denied. I forwarded the claim to SSK with the following message:

I want to inform you that PayPal has indicated, due to the way you asked me to send the funds (friends and family), they are unable to provide any sort of refund based on their policies. It is your responsibility to make the refund.

Because of the history of fraud I've uncovered, I will be pursuing this further. I am, in particular, asking PayPal to mark this account as one used for fraudulent transactions and scamming money before closing it. My hope is that this account is in your real name and that getting this account marked for fraud has real consequences you have to live with.

I honestly didn’t expect to hear from SSK again, but I did on July 12th: 

Oh, I see. Now the difficult situation has become even more difficult. I'm sorry to say this, but, as I said earlier, I had only two offers for people affected by my actions - a PayPal dispute or finished art. And since PayPal is useless in this situation, all I can offer you - is art. I’m still ready to finish your commission because I don't want you to be left with nothing. I would like to return the money, really, but it will take time and I don't know how much, considering the current situation on Tumblr. I still want to resolve this issue peacefully, despite what is happening now. I know that you don't trust me, and I understand this, as well as the fact that you are disappointed, angry, etc., but still I want to do at least something so as not to leave the situation as it is now. But if this is your final decision, then okay, I understand and accept it.

This message struck me as victim blaming. I am, after all, responsible for the situation on Tumblr which means she can’t get commissions. I reacted with some venom and my tone is not great here, but I do ask you to understand the frame of mind I was in here on July 13th: 

I don't think it's fair to claim that PayPal is being unhelpful in this situation when it is you who are refusing to refund money for a service that was purchased and not completed. I think it would make me feel better if you started phrasing the "situation" in a way that took responsibility for it. Such as: "I cannot refund the money to you myself, because I spent it before delivering what you paid for, and I cannot get your dispute resolved through PayPal because I asked you to send the payment a specific way that precludes disputes." 

I also feel hurt that immediately after I sent my email on Friday, you blocked me from Tumblr and turned all your social media accounts private. I can't think of why you would do this when you claim to still want to resolve this and when I have been more than kind. I find it difficult to believe that you didn't know what my review would cause - it sounds to me like this is something that has been brewing for awhile. Frankly, I'm amazed it took three years. I would also appreciate if, instead of blaming the "situation" on Tumblr for your inability to receive new commissions, you began taking responsibility for that as well. May I suggest: "My actions in the past three years have harmed many people and they are angry about it with good cause. Because I have damaged my reputation to a great extent, I will probably not receive many, if any, people willing to pay me money for commissions." 

I fully expect to receive nothing from you: art or my money returned. When speaking with PayPal on Friday, they advised the only way to shut your PayPal account down is if I file a criminal complaint with the IC3, which is the US's Internet Crimes division of the FBI. I did so and sent them the screenshots I have of all our conversations, your posts on Tumblr, and links to the posts of other people who publicly came out regarding the same behavior they experienced. I'm uncertain I can withdraw my complaints from both PayPal and the IC3, and if I could I don't think I would. I'm sure this isn't something that is high priority for them, but I assume eventually they will contact you to discuss your actions. The way I see it, you have three options at this point in time:

Find some way to issue a refund to me, and any other customers you've wronged. If I am contacted by investigators, I will say a refund was eventually issued in my case. 

Deliver the art you promised to me, and any other customers. If I am contacted by investigators, I will say a product was eventually delivered in my case. 

Continue to ignore what you've done and hope that no real consequences come of it. 

As to the art, I don't want it anymore. It has been tainted by this awful experience and I will not enjoy it. I will, however, accept it if you choose to do it to lessen whatever consequences you may end up facing because, truly, I'd rather you learn from this than end up with financial or legal consequences that are even more burdensome. 

Honestly. I never expected to hear from SSK again. But I did because this is the drama that never ends. On July 20th: 

I must apologize for the long silence. Sorry, I just got home from an unexpected vacation with my family, and I followed the advice of my parents and friends - spend these days away from work and the Internet to feel better. As I said, I understand you. You sound reasonable and you are totally right - it is my responsibility for that. And I'm trying to work it out, even if these are rather strange ways. And it wasn't about you personally. This was part of another problem with a friend I was trying to protect, and I followed the advice to keep the accounts private during the "war" and block some people on the tumblr during this time to avoid any collisions. But still, I was available for correspondence via email, and now all my accounts are again freely available. I know how it looks like, especially for you, when you have really been more than kind to me, and I cannot apologize enough to somehow change and improve this situation. I just fucked up on all fronts and I admit it. And I see, yes. I don't mind returning your art or money, it's just a matter of time. These are not days, these are weeks or months, and it is solely a matter of your patience. If you do not mind waiting, then I will try to return the money to you, since you no longer want art for obvious reasons. I understand and accept it, and it's okay. If you're willing to wait, I'll keep you informed of the refund situation and will do it as soon as I can.

You’ll note earlier I told you I can’t tag SSK cause I’m blocked. I’ve never been unblocked since July despite her saying she would. This is also the last email I got from SSK. I’ve had no communication since to my knowledge.

At this point in time I was tired. Really tired. It was bad news I got this email exactly a month after my father passed because I just didn’t want to do it anymore. This is my second to last email to SSK in response also on July 20th: 

Please feel free to do what you need to do to manage the situation. For my part, I have said and done all I can. I have asked for a refund for a service you have been unable to provide in a reasonable time frame, and thus you are legally obligated to return my money in the same reasonable time frame. That time frame has passed already.

When I am contacted by authorities about this matter in response to my complaints, I will tell them you have promised refunds but have not delivered. The only thing you could do to change this answer is to issue a refund before I am contacted.

This exchange is draining and unhelpful for me. I ask that you please do not contact me again until you are ready to issue a refund. 

On September 25th, I was informed SSK had successfully opened commissions on Twitter and Instagram. This spurred me to send one final email: 

I've been informed you recently reopened commissions to buy yourself something and met your goal, even though you only advertised on Twitter and Instagram. 

I would like to remind you that I'm still owed a refund AND you shouldn't spend that commission money until you deliver on that art. Please do not rip and entire new group of people off. 

There are other people, in the notes of the original post, who can attest to terrible experiences similar to mine. In particular, @starsandskies, @vorchagirl, and @charlatron have all come forward to talk about what she’s done and their experiences. Her pattern seems to be to open commissions, deliver a few, have the rest dragged out of her, and then to not do other ones. I drew the short straw this time. 

I don’t know if she’s reading this - if she is, at this point all I really want is an apology, a list of people who are waiting for art/refunds from her, and a plan as to how she’s going to make it right. If she doesn’t do those things, I suspect I’m going to keep getting dragged back into this cluster for awhile to talk about my experiences. 

If you’re waiting for artwork Non, open PayPal disputes and file complaints if you need to. The sooner the better. 

[bunny-wk-fanfic]

This Is Brought To You By

The door opened to a rustic cabin, the natural wood glowing amber thanks to a roaring fire. Worn dark leather seating seemed hazy thanks to said fire light, each piled with plush pillows and draped with cozy throws or blankets. A low table had been laid out with candles, a bottle of wine was being kept chilled in a classy and slightly modern ice bucket with two glasses just off to the side. The only splash of color amongst the glow of the fire, the natural wood and stone textures were a small handful of red roses, loose petals just lightly scattered about. With the help of the slow jazz playing softly in the background, it made for a very romantic atmosphere.

"Well, hello there." the male voice was a slightly low purring drawl, drawing attention to the male figure sprawled across an almost stereotypical bear rug. "Deadpool here. Hopefully, while reading this, you're hearing the voice of a certain sexy male Canadian. I'm sure you know the one. And I don't mean the short, hairy one with anger issues and kitty claws and a fondness for cigars. Unless of course said angry man is being represented by a beautiful, beautiful wild Australian man. Because if then, well, lather me in hot sauce and spank my Chimichanga. But I'm getting off track here."

Fingers drummed against a knee, drawing the attention to the missing and familiar red and black outfit, and more importantly, to the lack of proper attire.

"Yes, my current outfit has to do with the reason we are here today. It's come to my attention, that it's been some time since we last met, or that our beloved writer has written anything involving our favorite woman. And more importantly, our favorite woman when involved with me." a single white rose was plucked from behind, waved about as if a magic wand, and dragged across a scarcely clad male thigh that was pocked with fresh wounds that were instantly scaring. "As such, I decided to… encourage our beloved writer into bringing us all together once again."

With a dramatic wave of limbs, he moved from reclining on his side, that screamed 'Paint my like your French women', to leaning back on his elbows. The pale pink satin nighty, the atmosphere, and the pose would have been more than alluring were the one in said pose a woman. With the male, the nighty was rather comically stretched across his frame, though covering everything important, the sheer robe with fluffy cuffs only adding to the oddity of the entire situation. It clashed with the fact that he still wore his iconic red and black full head cowl.

"Now, our lovely writer might say otherwise about my encouragement, calling it nagging, whining or say I simply began to annoy her until she finally relented. Ignore those words and continue to read mine with the amazing drawl of a voice provided by the Canadian sex symbol; my pal, my bosom buddy, Ryan Reynolds." the white rose bobbed to the beat of the low music, tapping against a hip every so often.

"Now, back unto the reason why we're here. Honestly? I was lonely and wanted some cuddles with my lovely, lovely Kagome." noticing that it was just the male lounging in the open living space, he was quick to wave a hand. "Don't worry, don't worry! My girl is currently enjoying a much-needed hot bubble bath. One, I wish I was taking part of, but felt this little conversation was, at the time, more prudent. How could I feel that? Simple. I had the desire that everyone read this in Reynolds voice, nothing more and nothing less. Though if we are asking for more, and I know what you all want, I on the other hand, wouldn't mind lathering my girl in rich and real Canadian maple syrup and eating my midnight pancake snacks off of her, but maybe later. So while Kagome is taking this time to prepare for a very adventurous night right here on this vegan friendly-faux-bear fur rug, I'll fill that time with hanging out with you lovely little readers. Because without you, though more so my unannounced arrival and delayed departure, we wouldn't be here right now."

Happy humming could now be heard from behind a closed door just off to the side, the male giving a little jiggle in his spot in excitement. The rose momentarily used to fan himself, though just how useful it was as such, needed to be questioned at a later time.

"Now I'm sure there are a few things you all wish to talk about; my last movie with the fridge trope, which I myself can only say thanks to the writers for that one. Thanks guys, I've always wanted more trauma and torture to sprinkled in my life." a finger was wagged, tongue tisking against his teeth, though the sound was slightly muffled due to his mask.

"Or when my next film will come out, and if so, will it be part of the Marvel Universe. This is where you show your true love and devotion. I ask you, lovely readers, to go out and use the internet, haul out the trolls if need be, and ask, beg, and cry for me to be part of Marvel. Not that I want to, not really, it's just principle. What with their large budgets, CGI teams, writers, directors and a full cast. Honestly, a whole school of mutants gone save for three at a single extended time? For what purpose, 'cause I doubt they all went on some sort of field trip or vacation, but what do I know, I failed out of 5th grade. But, not really." his head tipped to the side, possibly staring in the direction of where the bathroom was, it was hard to tell with his face actually covered to know for sure.

"I mean, who wants to be part of that depressing team? All that self-sacrificing for the greater good?" he gave a few bobs of the rose in his hand as his head tipped back, almost as if in contemplation. "Though let's be honest, we all know I would survive an alien with a California Raisin on steroids for a chin, snapping their fingers. And then I'd introduce said alien to my Desert Eagles Mark XIX while recruiting Ant-Man to tickle where the sun never shines before becoming… Anti-Ant-Man? I honestly don't know what to call him in his Ultraman form, wait, does that make him a magical-boy or a science-boy? Right, Ant-Man shrinking to tickle where sun don't shine for hurting my favorite Web-Head super bro." the rose now tapped where his mouth was, though again, it was hidden by his mask. "And it would be super hot to watch Kagome kick his ass. I wonder what she would wear… Something skin tight? Revealing? Her old school uniform?"

A door opening, even though quiet, drowned out his muttering, the candles flickered as steam billowed out of the bathroom before quickly dissipating the further it billowed into the open space. "Are you talking to White and Yellow again?" a female figure left the dark bathroom, her form covered with a short semi sheer dark pink bathrobe of her own. Her hands were raised just enough to free her hair from beneath the robe, though she paused when she really took a look at the sprawled out male. "...I thought that was supposed to be a gift for me?"

Snickering, he trailed the rose down from his mouth, his neck, down his chest stopping just above his stomach. "Don't you think I look sexy in this?" it was always so amusing to tease and rile her when he wore risqué outfits, namely hers.

Finishing in freeing her hair, she eyed his form. Yes, his skin was pocked and disfigured from him constantly getting open sores and his abilities nearly immediately healing them. But beyond that, his form was all carved muscle, no doubt from years of being a mercenary. While yes, he was larger with the shoulders strong, he had a slight swimmer's build. It didn't lack-

"Ah, sorry for the intermission. Our writer took a few days to… deal with life I guess. How boring." shoulders shrugged, waving off the confused expression from his fairer companion. "Of course, it would happen when describing my awesome and amazingly sexy self." an actual pout could be seen through his mask.

"I will admit, you are sexy." the purring drawl from Kagome drew his attention again, her words and tone revealing she either decided she was going to ignore him going off tangent or just that she was used to it at this point, body freezing when her hands began with removing the sash that kept her own coverings secure. "I'm just not sure that shade of pink is quite your color. Maybe you should stick to your usual colors?"

The moment, the robe dropped and pooled around her feet, revealed a feminine figure dripping in curves with subtle musculature that showed she kept up with her own training, he froze. She wore a set of red and black satin and lace that covered pale skin. It covered a little more than what most would normally deem sexy lingerie, with slightly wider straps, but they accentuated her curves, drawing attention to them. And the thin ribbons that accompanied and mimicked, as well as help the lace that helped cover stiffening peeks, made her look more like a present just waiting to be unwrapped.

"Well, what do you think of my gift to you?" legs crossed slightly as hands once again rose to lift her hair to both reveal her neck and shoulders as well as lift her chest, she stood posed before him, basking in the golden glow of the fireplace behind him.

The white rose that had been resting near his hip instantly perked up, a white petal flying off at the somewhat harsh and sudden movement. Despite it being a mask, the white 'eyes' widened as the mask shifted to show that his jaw dropped.

"I'll take your silence as a, 'I likey'?" she giggled as she dropped her hands, they followed the curves of her body, no doubt drawing his gaze from behind the mask to follow with. Slowly, with a slight predator grace, she lowered to her knees and began to crawl up his form, leaving a trail of kisses behind her that glittered from both the fire light as well as her own abilities to help heal him.

Tossing the rose without a care, he reached forward to trace her curves for himself, not stopping as her own hands reached forward to lift and remove his mask. Lips curved up when she reached forward to kiss him. It was sweet, a simple press of her lips against his own. His smile grew when he quickly ended the sweetness by reaching for that delightful curve of her ass that shook playfully in his grasp.

The gasp that was let out was easily and eagerly swallowed, tongue dipping between lush lips to tangle with her own. With where his grip was, he pulled her closer to settle in his lap. Trailing lips away from her own to nip down her jaw and neck, he smirked against her warm skin.

Pausing, brown eyes narrowed as he turned away from the purring woman in his lap. "Oi, what are you still doing here? This ain't no peep-show! Go away. Read a book, play a game, watch a movie. I hear that new one about a guy named Guy wanting to be free or something, is worth the watch. And if my pal Ryan is in it, ya know it's good. Now," a hand reluctantly left the span of leg it had been caressing with a waving motion. "Shoo."

Turning away, leaving behind the couple and the sounds of giggles and kissing echoed loudly over the crackles and pops from the fireplace. A quick squeal that turned into laughter that was followed by a masculine whine at the sound of fabric tearing just set the pace of what was to come. And who was in charge of this nights shenanigans. A door closing muffled the sounds as the cool evening draped across the forest, leaving only the crickets in the distance and even further off cries of wolves the only sounds to echo.

Message delivered, though the exacts of what the message actually was seemed to have been lost. But it had been shared, and that seemed to be all that had been important. It did leave questions of what the future held, and if there would be any further important messages that would need to be shared. Who knows. Guess the game of 'wait and see' was going to have to be played.

AN: Don't ask. Please don't. I will say this, I was at work when I literally/figuratively heard Deadpool/Ryan Reynold's voice pop out from no where and bug me until I started writing this down. And when I lost the flow for a few days, it came back until I managed to finish it. So now I'm posting it here and cleaning my hands of it. I hope you can find some enjoyment in, I know I'm going to enjoy the peace and quiet.

As always; read, enjoy, and please review! - BunnyWK